by Kevin M. Norberg, performer-composer-producer
Hmm, I'm feeling a bit philosophic today...
After losing not one but TWO jobs this year, I am in a season of change — waiting for the Next Thing.
While doing an excellent job for both employers, we were battling through the most difficult year of our lives. Last Fall, my wife, Becka, suffered an unimaginable health crisis — 22 days in the hospital, 2 misdiagnoses, fear of brain tumor, return of cancer, every test known to medicine, and six weeks of being virtually blind, unable to walk or stand without assistance.
Today, Becka’s fine. Her health has been restored, there is nothing to treat, she was able to go back to teaching at North Central University in January and didn’t miss a day of class the entire spring semester. Best possible outcome to a horrible situation.
While battling through that two-month crisis — on fewer than three hours sleep a night — I kept a healthy, positive “can-do” attitude at both jobs. By everyone’s account, I hit not just Home Runs for both employers, but Grand Slams. Still, I was shown the door. Not just any door, mind you — The Back Door.
I felt like the guy who called the suicide prevention hotline and got put on hold.
Ah, the Sound of Silence.
Don’t worry, I’m not here to cry on your shoulder. First, we commiserate a little. Then we get esoteric.
In the Symphony of Life, God is the Great Conductor — He orchestrates the rhythm, the tempo, the melodies and harmonies of our lives. Metaphorically speaking, our days do play out like a beautiful symphony, each day filled with wonderfully musical moments: soaring melodies, rich harmonies, accelerandos and rallantandos, thrilling crescendos and climaxes.
But part of the fabric of any symphony is what we do NOT hear... the Sound of Silence.
From time-to-time, the music in our lives will go silent. But that doesn’t mean the Symphony has stopped.
Silence is not just the absence of sound.
Silence has a direct role in music because measures of silence are not waiting periods. These are times of active listening, much like a good conversation. Silence isn’t just the canvas upon which music is painted — it’s one of the colors in the composer’s palette.
“People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs
that voices never share
And no one dares
Disturb the sound of silence.”
— from “The Sound of Silence”, Paul Simon
Silence in music, as in Life, increases our communicative abilities and tunes our senses — so we aren’t “people talking without speaking” or “hearing without listening.”
Between the movements of a symphony, there is silence. During those moments, when no music is playing, everyone pauses: the conductor, the orchestra, even the audience.
For a music lover, that silence is disconcerting (yes, pun intended!). Musicians are always uncomfortable with silence. We want to — need to — MAKE music. Music and art is a verb, requiring action. By that definition, silence would be passive. Inactive. Dormant.
But in the sound of silence, when the notes and instruments are tacet, we are given a chance to reflect on the themes and motifs of past movements. To replay the chord structures and orchestral colorings we have experienced. Without silence, none of that is possible.
Between movements, the orchestra uses the opportunity to turn the page. There’s also the anticipation of the Next Movement. The conductor waits until the players are ready, instruments poised, the audience holding its breath, and then: with the downstroke of his baton, the next movement begins.
And so it is in Life. There is music to be heard in the silence.
“The greatest impact can be felt
in the music that
immediately follows the silence.”
When the page is turned in your symphony — after what feels like too-long a Silence — it's exciting to hear the opening chords of the Next Movement. A sign the Symphony isn’t over. That the Music of Life goes on.
I am in that place of silence between movements in My Symphony, right now. I'm doing my best to reflect on earlier melodies, and replay memorable motifs and themes. And I'm also anticipating the Next Movement... the page is turned, the instruments are at the ready, as I keep my eye on the Conductor who will soon raise his baton and continue the Symphony of Life.
OK... enough “philosophizication” for now.
Go turn on some music you really love. And listen for the Sound of Silence.
