These days, life seems like a dance of picking and choosing. Not that, but this. Not this, but that. Swipe. Skip. Replay. Mute. We turn one thing off and another on. And the noise? It’s everywhere. Like it or not, we’re always hearing something, yet how often do we truly listen? And what about the silence? When do we ever make space for that?
A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to see a snowboarding film by Finlay Woods called “The Sound of Japan.” Now, there are a lot of ski and snowboard films these days, but this one really stood out not for the snowboarding content, but because the snowboarding was a medium through which to display the primary artistic element of the film: sound.
The world — and this Japanese train — come with their own unique soundtrack. All photos: Zach Miller
These sorts of films often have an evocative soundtrack, one filled with fervor and intensity, but the soundtrack for “The Sound of Japan” is exactly what the title says: the sounds of Japan. In a true act of artistry, the filmmakers collected an array of sounds from around Japan and used them to create a beautiful symphony. The result is a mesmerizing film that was both visually and audibly stunning.
Listening to Our Surroundings
About a week later, I found myself on a trip to none other than Japan. While there, I made a point to take note of the sounds. They were everywhere. The entire country seemed alive: electronic beeps in the city, trains whooshing through tunnels, voices, footsteps, tires humming, noodles being slurped, water rushing. The list could go on and on.
Listening to the sounds of Kyoto, Japan.
I went on runs and listened. Each place and time had its own song: the city, the forest, the early morning, the evening. There was no need for a playlist; Japan had its own.
Now that I’m back in the U.S., I’ve returned to my typical American soundtrack.
To be honest, it’s quite loud: the radio, the television, the phone. Whether it’s politics, social media, or sports broadcasts, the sounds are never-ending. There’s always someone with something to say, an opinion to give, a product to sell, a story to tell. Sometimes it’s good, other times it’s bad, but it’s always there.
As overwhelming as it can be, I’m also a sucker for it. I find myself exposing myself to sound nearly all the time. I go for a drive and click on the radio. I work on a project and crank up the tunes. I cook or wash dishes to the sounds of late-night talk show hosts. Time and time again, I choose to tune in.
Time to Think
There is, however, a space in which I tune out. That space is running. Sure, there are still sounds when I run, but these sounds are different. They’re the crunch of leaves on a crisp autumn day, the whisper of the wind at night, the rush of the river, and the honks of geese flying south for the winter. The space and time in which I can listen are very special to me. In a way, it seems sacred, and I hope it stays that way.
Making time for silence gives the mind a chance to wonder.
I think a lot of people turn on music, podcasts, or audiobooks when they train. They tune in to zone out. To each their own, but that just isn’t for me. For me, life has enough noise, and I cherish the time when I get to run free of all that. Running is my time to let my mind wander.
I often get the question, “What do you think about when you run?” To be honest, sometimes it’s not much. Other times it’s a whole lot. But either way, I think it’s so valuable to carve out space in a day to listen and think.
Unfortunately, we don’t always do this. Sometimes it’s quite the opposite. We use noise to block out noise. We turn on noise to drown out silence. We wear noise-canceling headphones to block out the noise we don’t want and keep in the noise we do. Meanwhile, as displayed in “The Sound of Japan,” there is a symphony all around us. The problem is, most of us are so tuned in to something else that we fail to hear it.
A moment of quiet in a world of noise.
If we miss the music of our surroundings, what else might we be missing? If our minds are constantly bombarded by the sounds and thoughts of others, is there any space left for ourselves? News, social media, and gadgets are bound to continue the ruckus. Can we be bold enough to turn them off and listen to ourselves for once? Do we dare to run in silence?
Call for Comments
- Do you find yourself overwhelmed by noise in your day-to-day life?
- What benefits do you get from running with music, podcasts, or audiobooks?
- Do you prefer to run in silence?
