When I think of the busyness of modern society, the word that comes to my mind is “noise.” The sound of cars, trains, and airplanes. The sound of telephones, computers, and smartphones. The sound of television, music, and video games. Whether it is transport systems, communication, or entertainment, we live in a noisy world. Some sounds we hear and let pass without a thought, while other sounds we choose to put into our ears. There are the people who always have the TV on even when they aren’t watching anything in particular. There are the people who travel to school or work with their ear phones in, always listening to something. It seems contradictory, but it is as though there can be no calm for us without noise. Ours is a society in which the switch is always “on.”

But some things cannot be heard unless you turn the switch “off.” The sound of bamboo swaying in the wind. The cries of birds and buzz of insects. The worries and sorrows of our neighbors. The voice within our own hearts. The words of God. When our lives are full of busyness and noise, we have no time to stop and think, to reflect, to make changes for the better, to value what is truly important; we are just going through routines on endless repeat. When I realize that I too have fallen into such a way of life, I tell myself, I can’t go on this way, and try to change something. This time, I took a big step and decided to rent some land and start growing organic vegetables with my husband. There were many factors involved in this decision, but one of the biggest for me was that I wanted to re-learn how to listen.

From the time I was small, people have told me that I was a good listener, and I think it is significant that the nickname by which I have been called since I was a baby, “Mimi,” means “ear” in Japanese. Perhaps this is my life work. Yet, these days I feel as though I have gotten bad at listening. In the past, I would invite people to my home and listen to them for three hours, whereas now if someone tries to talk with me, I want to run away. In the past, I wrote a prayer journal every day and made time to face God and myself, but I never write any more.

Yet, strangely enough, no matter how busy and tired I am, with no room for others, I find myself looking up at the sky. And I remember a certain Bible passage.

“The heavens are telling the glory of God;

and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.

Day to day pours forth speech, and night to night declares knowledge.

There is no speech, nor are there words;

their voice is not heard.” (Psalm 19:1-3)

I want, first of all, to listen to what has no sound. To that which has no speech, or words, whose voice is not heard, because even such things have something to proclaim. Maybe that is why I decided to start planting vegetables.

Right now, as much as possible, I want to turn the switch to “off.” I want to know what it is like to have days that are not swallowed up in busyness, to know what sounds I will hear when I get rid of the noise. I know that not everyone has that luxury. But I have decided to take a year to slow down. If I listen carefully with both ears and if I can preserve what I hear in writing, I believe I will find a hint or two to guide my future self.