Deep listening

I don’t have internet in my apartment at the moment. Nor do I have any magazine-in-the-mailbox subscriptions.  These two conditions are related, and there are a couple of reasons for them. The first, the “presenting complaint”, in med-speak, is the expense. When I first came back to NY and arranged for Verizon to be my provider, the lovely introductory rate was $17.99 each month. Sign me up!  When that rate expired, the new rate was $10 more per month, and now it's $44.99 per month before taxes. Just for internet.

Magazines are the same. A sweet bargain for the first year or two, to catch you, and then a much higher rate when your subscription renews automatically, as a “convenience” to you. More important, magazines, even the best ones, are either repetitive (sorry, Oprah), or relentless (New Yorker, I’m talking to you).  Or both. Who has the time to read them all? And who, in this apartment, has the time to read them all when there is a cat to admire, Shakespeare on the shelf, music in my head, and friends to talk to? Real life, compassionate, aware, loving, curious friends?

Which brings me to another concern: The Vortex. Our minds are wired to look  at the newest information. This can keep us both alive - Look out! There’s a snake! Move fast! A tree is falling! - and breeding - wow! now THERE”S a man!. This also makes us the perfect targets for Facebook and Twitter addiction, because the feeds keep updating. I find I am reading about someone I barely know doing something I don’t care about (so glad you’re having coffee for your hangover, my fb friend). It’s the latest, so it’s the loudest. Though it is easy to decide to stay away, actually doing that requires overriding millions of years of evolutionary development. But just as I am trying to do that, here comes another update, and it sucks me back in, on the off-chance that I need to know this new bit of information.

The Vortex substitutes the watching of life for living of life. It affected me years ago, through television, and so I got rid of my TV. Since then I have been encouraged (often!) to re-engage the box, and I haven’t yet done so. Perhaps when a cable company allows me to choose and pay for only the stations I want (I want my BBC, period). The result of this mode of living is that I am an alien. Those who watch a lot of telly probably don’t realize that they talk more about that than about anything else. They talk more about the characters on shows than about the people they actually know. I notice it because, when I have to ask who they are talking about, they are astounded by my ignorance.

But I watched a lot of TV in my past. Many friends have been made to endure my recall of theme songs and  jingles from the 60s. In 1978, when I had the car accident that forced me out of the music business for a couple of years, I had extremely good medical care from Dr. Alvin Mulne, and all the superb staff at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Burbank, CA. I also had Jamie Sommers, The Bionic Woman, on daily reruns, and that show played an important part in my healing, too. I had been surprised to find that, thanks to bad management, I was rather spectacularly underinsured, and the daily “meditation” and visualization of her speed and strength and acute hearing was almost the only post-op therapy I had. We really do have the technnology, built-in, in mind and spirit.

Today I am living in a cable-free, magazine-free, internet-free apartment. Some of this may may well change. It's inconvenient. To publish this post, I have to walk down the hill to the library with my laptop on my back, and then walk back up. It's raining. But once I am home again, the mental silence - because I can't check Facebook - is deep and fruitful. The payoff's been really big. Clearer ideas. Sharper awareness when I am out, quieter thoughts when I stay in. Intuition's more insistent. Prolific dreaming. Prayer. I feel more present to Presence.

So far, so good.

 

Comments

[Enrique]

I am glad that you are well Laurel! it is important for me . I was worried

[John Allen Bankson]

I probably should take pen in hand to write my response to this, since I don't know when you'll see it. Thanks for a beautiful post. Oh, and I did send you a note on Facebook, not knowing of the schlepping involved in your getting said Facebook message: sorry!

I hate to admit that, before I read the post, I had mistaken Lindsay Wagner (as Jamie Sommers) up there for a young Meg Ryan.

[John Allen Bankson]

Oh, and the only magazine subscriptions I have (The Atlantic Monthly, Harper's, and Food & Wine) were free: on those rare occasions that I fly somewhere (on someone else's nickel, obviously) I make sure to put my SkyMiles number in the reservation. I've never had enough miles to redeem for travel (before they expire), but I often have enough to get some magazines!

I dropped my subscription to the New Yorker right before our first child was born and never looked back.

[Marsha]

Awesome, Laurel. Just awesome. The thought of a musician who is surrounded and suffused by her own inner rhythms and beats is simply breathtaking. I'm hopeful that I, too, can find a way to control what comes at me. Less would definitely be more, in my thinking.

Thanks for the inspiring post.

[Laurel Massé]

John Allen - Pen in hand? Yes, I remember the thrill of getting an letter in the mail, from a friend. I miss that.

Do not worry, Enrique.. I am well. Gracias!

Marsha, thank you for the inspiring comment!

Blessings, Laurel

[Sue Kelly]

So glad I checked on your fb wall to see why the silence - I was a bit worried as well! Will check in periodically to see what you are up to. It is not easy to "simplify", but I believe it is crucial for inner peace. I look around and wonder at all the clutter. Enjoy Mrs. Peel, your music, and your "you". Peace!

[Laurel Massé]

Thank you, Sue!
Blessings, Laurel