Leaving the Noise Behind

 

Photo by Jelleke Vanooteghem on Unsplash

I recently read a beautiful essay by Don Johnson (not that Don Johnson). It was one of those essays that stirs the heart and somehow elicits both joy and sadness at the same time.

I aspire to write essays of the same caliber as his and John P. Weiss’s someday.

The central theme of the essay is the idea of leaving things behind. “Leaving things behind,” he says, “creates more space for new things, freedom, and growth.”

A common theme in my life is that life is full of the noise of things clamoring for my attention. For far too long, I’ve given outsize attention to the noisiest of things which are not often the things of greatest value. The adage, “the squeaky wheel gets the grease” has been latched onto by so many things of little value.

In his article, Mr. Johnson suggests that it’s okay for us to “leave behind what no longer serves you with gratitude and kindness.” It’s an interesting departure from a growing social norm that we leave employment, leave relationships, leave political and social affiliations with as much noise as possible — with public declarations that such and such or so and so has lost our support because of x, y, and z.

What he suggests is that, even when making a departure from a difficult situation, it’s okay to have gratitude for valuable lessons learned in that situation. That takes a lot of emotional maturity that I don’t necessarily possess but I’m working on.

I believe the world is as noisy as it is because it’s filled with people who are desperate to be heard. There’s this constant pull to change, improve, and refine everything around us. That’s not necessarily a bad thing — personal growth comes from the stretch and strain of striving to be better than we are — but it’s a mentality often driven more by external pressure than a real desire to be better.

Mr. Johnson concluded his article with a profound and simple statement:

I felt good accepting things as they were and leaving behind the idea it would be better if they were different.

At first, letting go of the idea that everything needs to be constantly refined, improved, and polished can be difficult. After letting go of that expectation, the idea that the world — or even my own life — must be other than what it is gives way to an increased capacity to hear the quieter, more enduring parts of myself.

Make no mistake. It takes work to allow these quieter parts to guide us toward what really matters: greater presence, small moments of wonder, and growth in contentment rather than constant change.

I’m still working on embracing this quieter acceptance. I’m discovering a purpose not rooted in reshaping everything all the time. It’s an interesting thought that we have to allow space for things to bring meaning. With all the noise in the world today, it won’t happen by accident. I’m learning that it’s not about trying to shout over the noise. It’s about listening to a very small voice inside me — one that I’m helping grow — that remains steady, resilient, and more peaceful.