Stop just a moment to listen. What do you hear? If you’re like me, your world is full of noise. Cars honk. Cell phones ding. Musac plays in every office and elevator. Most of it we tune out as we go about our day. But our minds are full of artificial sounds. No wonder many of us have trouble relaxing at night to go to sleep. What if we purposefully chose to turn down the volume even for a short time?
My work day starts and ends with a 45-60 minute drive through grueling rush hour traffic to and from downtown Indy. I arrive at the clinic at least 30 minutes before my first patient to review test results and consult notes that came into my computer overnight. This time of silence before the rush gives my soul a chance to quiet itself. When everyone else shows up, the race is on.
From morning to evening, there is constant commotion. People talking, babies crying, and children laughing. If I listen with care, I hear the footsteps of each patient as they move down the hallway. The elderly traverse slowly. The sound of a cane taps a rhythm on the tile floors while the next child runs to beat their sibling to the scales. In the room, the automatic blood pressure cuff hums then beeps as it records the vital signs. A door opens and closes marking the ebb and flow of a typical day.
Over and over, the stories are different but the routine is the same. With every patient, I find connection and purpose. But by the end of the week, I leave with my heart squeezed dry and my energy drained. Everyday I listen and absorb the narratives of broken lives trying desperately to seek healing. Within this brokenness, I see hope and evidence of lives redeemed. But it’s overwhelming at times.
I know I’m not the only one with a challenging, emotionally stress filled job. When you work as a care-giver of any sort, you risk burn out if you aren’t purposeful about self-care. One way I’ve found to recharge is to unplug. This means I turn down the volume of all the noise in my life. Instead of spending hours on social media, I choose to read a good book. Rather than listening to 24/7 news, I focus attention on the ones I love. I separate myself from the discordant din that promotes anxiety. In its place, I immerse myself in the music of the natural world.
While picking green beans in my garden this morning, a busy bumble bee joined me within the rows. In another part of the garden, the chickens foraged for insects, conversing with each other in clucks and crows. It is in this place that peace settles over me and the voice of God becomes clear. When I don’t turn down the volume of the world, I risk missing the very One who sustains me and gives me purpose. Intentionally stepping away from the noise for a time, gives me the strength to step back in where I am needed once again.
