Listening Fatigue

Julie
Julie
Nov 6 · 4 min read
Photo by Juja Han on Unsplash

I used to listen to music at any moment I found myself alone. Studying, commuting or even when I’m laying down in bed, silence became almost non-existent. But when I got AirPods, a moment without music merely became impossible. The absent wire made walking around and doing things hands-on more easy.

It became a dependency when mornings where I forget my earbuds to class or work ruined my whole day. And even though I kind of knew that it was detrimental towards my hearing and possibly made me more vulnerable to muggings on the street, I still found it necessary to block out the world on a day-to-day basis.

Irresponsibility started my music purge.

I lost my AirPods. Though feelings of guilt and soft dismay racked my brain, I got a regular pair of earbuds with the wire, as well as a lightning dongle, to make up for my costly irresponsibility. Then, lo and behold, I lost the dongle.

At this rate, I gave up on buying more listening devices and settled on only listening from my laptop. Because, whoop de doo, without the cable (lightening cable, dongle, why do so many names exist for it?) that connects the earbuds to my Iphone 7, I might as well say goodbye to those jazzy morning commutes on the bus.

It was fine, my ears needed to heal from the months of abuse I gave it from putting the volume on high anyways. Also, it was getting harder and longer each week to find more music to satiate my need for a “mood.” So I thought that taking a break from music overall, at least only listening to it when I’m on my computer, couldn’t be so bad.

The first weeks without music was hard.

I found my thinking processes interrupted with the smallest noises. People say that it’s good to take a step back and notice the little things in life, but it felt like I started to notice every little thing that annoyed me. I’m talking about people complaining about life on the bus, people on their phones right next to me in line, cars, police, fire trucks, etc.

I felt sadder too. Without something to paint those tired-stricken mornings and lowly afternoons in an uplifting way, so many aspects of my day felt more dull.

Things started to take a turn.

After about two weeks, I started to get the hang of the sounds. They didn’t bother me anymore, as they all just started to blend in the background like a buzz. And those conversations on the bus? I became interested in the sort of things people were talking about. I would hear gossip, grief and gratification from strangers and got a glimpse into another person’s life for only a few stops.In a way, I started to feel more connected to the world around me — the world that I tried to take myself out of through music. The footsteps on the pavement, milk steaming at a cafe, the laughter of children outside my window, and even the trees shuffling in the breeze. I started to notice the beauty of my surroundings, of Berkeley.

Same with silence. When I thought that I needed the right song to capture the right feelings for me to think deeper, silence actually gave me more space and mental capacity to think.

I also started to develop the appreciation I once had for music . Hours spent trying to find songs that dazzled me felt almost like a waste when after a week, or even less than a week, I would get sick of listening to them and would have to continue the process of finding new music again—each new find becoming more insipid. But after testing this so-called “purge,” melodies and lyrics felt fresh, genres came alive and jingles began to sparkle once again.

The reason why listening happened so often was because I depended on it to get me through the day. I depended on it to give me feelings amongst an unfeeling daily routine. I depended on it as a constant to keep my mood at an equilibrium.

I’m not saying that frequent music-listening is a bad thing. Just like anything in this world, it should be taken in moderation. When something, anything, starts to lose its luster, that’s a good sign to take a break. In that time, I discovered new perspectives of Berkeley, of its people and even in music.

AirPods make a reappearance.

Months after losing AirPods and only listening through my laptop, the little floss-shaped container appeared in a bag. I threw in the closet and forgot about last summer and figured that I lost it. How foolish of me. Anyways, celebratory cheers rang inside me thinking that I could once again listen on the bus or when walking to work.The next day, however, I kept them in my bag. I actually didn’t think of them until I got home. But when I did pull them out, I danced fervently to songs that I once in the past didn’t give a second thought to with a newfound excitement.

Julie

Written by

Julie

Personal essays, short fiction, reporting and poetry. Goal: 1–2 pieces a week. Will also post archival pieces here and there.

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