Betty Firth
Betty Firth
Matt Mikkelsen spoke at the Ely Tuesday group last week on a topic that is dear to my heart and nervous system: the importance of quiet. Matt is a sound recordist, audio engineer, and documentary filmmaker based in Duluth, who has worked as a sound designer, director, and producer on several award- winning documentaries. Additionally, because he realized as a young man that he wanted to spend a lot of time outdoors rather than secluded in a soundproof, windowless environment, he has devoted much of his professional career to observing, recording, researching, and preserving natural soundscapes around the world. He co-founded Quiet Parks International with the mission, “To save quiet for the benefit of all life.”
I know when I am feeling stressed by an overload of information, activities, and screen time, the one sure fix will be going outside, even if it’s only for 15 minutes. I might dig in the dirt and pull weeds, or I might enjoy a cup of coffee on my deck, listening to the birds singing and the squirrels chirping in the surrounding trees. Although my house and deck are right next to the road, traffic is usually light, and I am able to hear the approaching whir of hummingbird wings, the loons calling as they fly overhead, and the squawk of crows as they harass a resident raven.
The “why I moved to Ely” story that many people tell includes being near the wilderness to paddle, camp, ski, snowshoe, fish, and hunt. Although I love those amenities, those were not my reasons. I came for the scale of a small town, the quiet, and the quality of the air and water created by the vast forests and hundreds of lakes surrounding Ely.
I knew that it was essential for my physical and mental health to get out of the urban environment I had lived in for 20 years. Even in wealthy, quieter neighborhoods, there is never real quiet. The hum of the electrical grid, the vibrations of traffic, sirens blaring somewhere, and people’s voices create a background theme all day and night.
Seldom can any sounds of the natural world break through.
I have a quiet nature along with sensitive hearing, so I’ve never been a fan of loud environments, but I was in my 40s before I realized that having quiet in my life was a necessity for my well-being, not just a preference.
Two books improved my understanding of how my nervous system was wired: “The Highly Sensitive Person” by Elaine N. Aron, PhD, and “Quiet” by Susan Cain. I learned that I am disturbed by noise more quickly than the average person. I discovered it wasn’t a matter of just being annoyed or inconvenienced. but rather that it was affecting my nervous system and could trigger anxiety, depression, anger, crabbiness, fatigue, confusion, a lack of focus, as well as problems with blood pressure, digestion, and other physiological functions. I didn’t fully recognize how much the urban environment had affected me until I moved north. In the quieter, slower environment of my new home, I could feel my unease: an inner, low key, nervous vibration, being “ready” at all times, twitchy, on the watch, for whatever was coming next. I realized it was a fight or flight reaction that had been internalized and normalized in the urban environment. I missed the 24-hour Kinkos on Hennepin Avenue and the all-night grocery store. I felt anxiety as 5 p.m. approached: “What do I need to do before the town businesses shut down?” It took me about six months to settle down, and I noticed the difference when I was finally really “here,” present, and relaxed.
After living here for 26 years, I have even less tolerance for noisy environments. I immediately ask for loud music to be turned down or off in restaurants, and I will just leave if it’s too noisy. I am puzzled as to why people endure noise levels that makes it difficult to even have a conversation over a meal. (I do realize it is partially due to Minnesotan long-suffering reluctance to speak up.) I think a restaurant called “The Quiet Place” might do very well here by advertising, “Enjoy your meal and conversation in our peaceful atmosphere featuring mellow, relaxing background music.”
Our culture nurtures the myth that more noise means more fun or excitement, and the parallel phenomenon I see is that many people are not comfortable with silence or even quiet. They may get twitchy if it’s too quiet and turn on the TV, radio, stereo, computer, or phone apps to provide a relentless background of sound. Many are compulsive talkers, filling every gap in the air waves with their voice. Even though introverts make up about half the population, our culture is biased toward extroverted traits and seems to favor noisy, crowded, public gatherings. I believe that inexperience causes many people to be uncomfortable with solitude and being alone with their own thoughts.Research has shown that spending quiet time in nature reduces stress, anxiety, depression, repetitive thoughts, and loss of focus. Silence can improve the quality of sleep, promoting deeper relaxation and any needed healing (which only happens when we’re sleeping.) Having a quiet mind can increase creativity and access to new ideas and insights. Anyone who has discovered the joys of time in nature in a remote wilderness, on a sailboat on Lake Superior, or even in an urban forest recognize benefits to their physical, emotional, and even spiritual balance.
Matt Mikkelsen emphasized that we need to protect the quiet places, or they will disappear. Just as we know that people need to experience the Boundary Waters and other wild places to value them, we also need to provide many opportunities for young people (and people of all ages!) to disconnect from the constant drone and distraction of technology and busy, cluttered lives so they can feel the difference firsthand.
He closed his presentation with some of the high-quality soundscape recordings he has made, and the energy in the room was transformed. Our large group would never have been allowed to travel or camp together in the wilderness, but we were plunged together into the waves of exquisite sounds captured thousands of miles away. Our communal attention was complete with no coughs, shuffles, or comments interrupting the depth of experience. My body relished the mini-vacation of the senses, which I carried out into my day with a Mona Lisa smile on my face.
Information about Quiet Parks International plus a variety of virtual quiet nature experiences are available at https://www.quietparks.org.