Shower Thoughts: If I Scream and No One is Around...
Do I still make a noise?
In case you are wondering, yes, I was an emo in high school.
From the time I was in elementary school, I can remember people discussing the philosophical implications behind the question: “If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?” It may sound like an absurd question, but is actually quite interesting because there is no wrong or right answer, but your answer can change depending on what school of thought you analyze it through. That is to say, the answer reveals more about a person than it does about reality.
When I was a child, I would answer a more childish form of: “Obviously! Whether someone is around or not does not change the existence of the noise.” By the time I entered middle school, I had changed my answer. I thought, “Well, for there to be sound, someone has to be around to hear it, right? Otherwise, there is no sound.” This is an either highly scientific or incredibly egocentric way of seeing our existence — and I find both to be typical of human beings. By the time I was in high school, I would occasionally continue to ponder whether there needs to be any human being around for sound to exist. If there are animals or other creatures around that hear the tree fall, even if they are not human, then surely it must be making noise, right? Could sound be just another fabrication of human consciousness like time? And if that is the case, then what even qualifies something as existent? Human awareness?
Fast-forward to today, in a time when I feel like my voice does not matter, when there is so much noise and very few people listening, and I have now put myself in place of the tree. Today, I have to be much more intentional about my relationships with people — as an acquaintance, as a colleague, as a co-worker, as a friend, as a father, as a husband. Today, I am wondering: if I scream and no one is around to hear my pain, does my pain still mean something?
“… if I scream and no one is around to hear my pain, does my pain still mean something?”
It is a question that has defined me this year. I see so much human suffering, and my pain definitely does not feel as loud as that of the “other trees in the forest”. And yet, I know my suffering matters just as much as my neighbor’s. Our roots are all connected somehow. Still, I have to stop and reflect: what has changed? Has this level of human suffering always existed and I am now just more mature to notice it? The global conflicts surrounding much of the backbone for human suffering have always been there. The “human condition” has remained the same. There have also arguably been worse time periods globally (e.g. any time period with a plague, WWI, or WWII). Am I maybe just “more connected” than my ancestors were thanks to technology? Could it be that perhaps age has redefined my outlook? Or is there something bigger going on that is trying to teach me that it is no longer worth screaming? And what does that say about human connection when we feel as though our pain is not worth communicating?
I have struggled to write lately, not from a lack of material but from an abundance of absurdity. There is too much noise, and I want to be careful not to fall into the trap of contributing to that noise. There is so much to be angry about that it is hard to focus on just one thing. There is also much to learn from taking a step back, observing, and listening. I want to be intentional about the way I express myself, and I definitely do not want to write until I feel I have something worth saying. Because I want to use my voice to engage and connect with others, and maybe that is another angle to look at the question from — a social one. Because at this point in my life, the question is not about whether or not the tree makes a noise. The question is whether the noise the tree makes matters and how the other trees in the forest are affected by that first tree’s fall. Because today, I am the tree, and so are you.
Perhaps when screams are intentional, they matter most. Perhaps not all screams are just noise. Perhaps that is what makes that simple question so great. Perhaps…