The Music of Sound

Is silence golden? You bet. It can be, anyway. When I need to get quiet in my spirit, I need quiet in my ears. When I want to feel the full brunt of anger or self-pity, I'm better off in silence. If there is no noise, no music to encourage my downward spiral, God will quickly draw me out and up.

Most of the time, music has filled my life. From "Glow Little Glow-Worm" and "Mr. Sandman" when I was a small child to Elvis, the Beatles, Otis Redding and Carla Thomas, Led Zeppelin, Jefferson Airplane, on and on. Rock fueled my teen-aged rebellion. It was an embarrassingly mild one - music's being the only form it took. I didn't even have a driver's license! But while my peers were driving fast, testing alcohol, breaking curfew, I turned up the volume behind my bedroom door.

With the piano lessons came a love of classical music and an appreciation for the precision and analytical mind of J.S. Bach. His was truly inspired creation. 60's soul warred with the Beatles for my time. As a young adult, I moved to CSN&Y, Fleetwood Mac, Cat Stevens. Disco came and eventually gave way to another rebellion at forty. I discovered Pink Floyd, the Cure, and Van Halen. Over the years my kids introduced me to Pearl Jam, Squirrel Nut Zippers, Jane's Addiction and Fiona Apple.

And through it all, every October through December Christmas rang throughout the house. Traditional, pop, country - it didn't matter. For me the message was the same.

Then I lost my Mom. Sounds strange that it should so affect my life, but I became someone else. The music stopped. But the faith set in.

On a trip South with my friend, Michelle, I tentatively pulled out my Cure and Pure Funk CDs. Out came her collection of contemporary Christian and I was hooked. It dominates my listening time now.

But in the morning and at sunset, when I rock on the porch, it's the sounds that make my music. Away from the white noise of suburban life and sirens and trash trucks, it starts as silence. My ears begin to notice new music - the short chirp of a cardinal, the whistling, whirring noise of the wings of startled mourning doves as they take flight, the plaintive honks of geese overhead. A wind bringing rain sounds wild; the breeze after the storm signals peace. I've heard the roar of an alligator and the springing sound of tree toads - like children jumping on old mattresses. South Carolina music.