The first sound that I can ever remember hearing: My Papa at his breakfast table in tiny Hardtner, Kansas, very middle of the U.S.A. My Grammy made his breakfast every morning before he went to work on the construction site. Bacon, eggs and toast. He would cut the eggs down to bite-size with his knife and fork on the white Corelle plate. The eggs were cut precisely to a uniform size. The knife and fork made a very distinct click-clack sound that I can still hear in my mind to this day. I’ve tried to replicate it, but have yet to master his knife-and-fork art form. Admittedly, I don’t own any Corelle. That could be the missing piece. But, it’s more likely that my Papa’s sounds of life just can’t be duplicated.

Hearing is the least appreciated sense of the 5 (or 6, if you believe we are more than our physical selves) because it’s 99% under the radar. Stop and consider the sounds in your day:

1. We have an owl in our ‘hood. He orients me to the time of day. He prompts me to turn my head this way and that to “find” his rooftop perch. He makes me pause and stay still just a bit longer than usual so I can take in his majestic hoot. He knows things I don’t. His hoot beckons me to learn more about his life instead of focusing on mine.
2. Our house plumbing sings a subtle song when my people in the house wake up and move about. The sound gives me a warning of who is about to clear the stairs and make themselves known. It might be a kid, it might be a husband (well, there is just the one) – you pay attention because the origin of the sound gives you the clue of whose face is about to pop up. It tells me it’s time to put down the coffee and book and get moving. The day is officially starting. Without my pipe’s serenade, I’m not sure I’d get going.
3. Our fancy coffee machine hums while she delivers her goods. She also hums when she hasn’t been touched for 2 hours, letting me know she is officially off-duty.
4. My neighbor’s front door squeaks when it opens and shuts. I love to see their boys move in and out of the house and I’m not ashamed to stand at the window and stare. Children are a beautiful thing. (Sight is a close second favorite sense, after all)
5. The basketball on the driveway, bouncing off the backboard. That’s enough about that. Lol.
6. The electric cars that move up and down my street. They are mostly Teslas, but there are a few others. That electric sound is totally mesmerizing – so much so that I might need to get one in the future.
7. The music in my local grocery store. ABBA, Journey, Peaches and Herb. No legit big-box store plays up-to-date music. It’s against grocery store music law.
8. My dog has a resounding “Oooff” when he lays down. Every time. I hope that never changes.
9. The surgery center on the floor above my office. The chairs move mid-morning to mid-afternoon. I believe it’s the break room, but I don’t know this for certain. ***The stories we tell ourselves to fill in the unknowns are as important as the story itself. I don’t need to know if it’s the breakroom because it’s the break room in MY story, and that’s what counts.
10. My Sunday paper hitting my driveway and the delivery driver zipping away. That is just beautiful.
11. The garage door, front door, refrigerator door, dryer door.
12. The ice maker. The blender. The electric razor.
13. Anyone on FaceTime. In our house, they are often situated face-up, staring at the ceiling while we keep going about our business. Once again, hearing trumps sight…
14. Laughter. Laughter. Laughter.

What is the first sound you remember hearing? Ode to SOUNDS. They orient us without our awareness and define our space in such a specific way. I hope I can hear all the things to my very last days. But if I can’t, I’m confident my mind will fill in the blanks. What a beautiful gift to hear life happening all around us. Happy listening!