I'm not gonna lie, there is one thing that I am excited about when I think of visiting America that ranks higher than even cheese and Chik-Fila waffle fries. And that's quiet. We live in a world of 'fortissimo'. For those less cultured than myself (ie, those of you who didn't hear 'June' on Little Einsteins this morning use the word 'fortissimo' and tell the audience to clap, clap, clap) fortissimo means really, really loud. And really, really loud can be good when you are talking about a dramatic piano piece, or say, a fire alarm. Fortissimo is not good when it defines your everyday.
My house is not just a little bit noisy. If it's quiet, I start to worry that someone is bleeding in the corner or eating Play-dough. So, why don't you go for a nice stroll outside, you might ask? Well, I don't know if you've ever been to China or probably India, but it's really noisy here. I had a one hour lay over in Delhi one time and it just felt noisy there, but my friends that live there can chime in on that one. Even at restaurants, the music is so loud that you have to shout to the person next to you. I think everyone's hearing has gotten so bad that places feel the need to crank up their music, honk their horns incessantly and speak at a decibel not made for human eardrums just to be able to function daily.
My parents house has a huge back yard with very few neighbors around them. I cannot explain how excited I am to sit on that back porch and listen to nothing. Although I'm sure my parent's neighbors are not at all excited about our 'fortissimo' disturbing their 'pianissimo.'
I am craving a little bit of pianissimo in my life. Grab the hand next to you, take a deep breath and say Pianissimo. Doesn't that feel good.
Pianissimo.
Pianissimo.
Pianissimo.
