I am talking about music. You may be listening to the air conditioner murmuring, the whine of overhead fluorescent lights, or the droning of a meeting you are attending. But that is not what I had in mind. I am not sure if there is a playlist out there called “office noises.” If there is such a playlist, what kind of sick person is streaming it?!
What’s your jam? (Do kids even say that anymore? I just ran this by artificial intelligence, and apparently I would be more relevant if I asked what you are vibing or bopping to.) Slang terms change as often as music.
Back to my original question. What are you listening to?
Ask me that question, and my response will be, “It depends.” If I want to “feel my feels,” I have a playlist titled — I kid you not — “Tear in my Beer.” If I want to look cool, and nothing says cool like a 60-year-old driving a pickup truck with a cracked windshield, I will blast “Beautiful Day,” by U2. Yes, I still turn heads but for completely different reasons. If I am chilling on the back porch, I have a list called “Firepit Evenings,” populated with singer-songwriters you never heard of, but to me, they are the GOAT (greatest of all time). I do not think my neighbors mind the music, but I do have one 33-year-old neighbor who loves “yacht rock.” I have complained to the homeowners association.
I saw a student recently wearing a Nirvana T-shirt, so I said to him, “Cool shirt. What’s your favorite song by Nirvana? Mine is ‘Come as You Are.’” The student stammered a bit and then confessed that he got the shirt at Walmart because it looked retro. I need to revisit our admissions policy.
What are you listening to? Who are you listening to?
Sometimes all I “hear” are the discouraging voices. Why is it that 99 people can share with me encouraging words and gratitude, but all I pay attention to is the one voice of criticism? I suspect I am not alone. And it is not just the negative or critical voices, but those that imply, or state outright, that if I do not agree with their side or position, I must not be smart or capable or Christian or — well, you get the point.
When I was in my 20s, I started keeping a file that I dubbed “Vanity File.” Whenever I received a note that was particularly kind or supportive, I would drop it in the file. Oddly enough, I did not look at it much. It was enough to know it was there. The notes of criticism and letters of personal grievance were never filed — just read and thrown away. I stopped dropping notes in the Vanity File 20 or more years ago. I suppose this was because I didn’t need it as much anymore, as when I was young and factory-fresh out of college.
The other day, I was cleaning out my file cabinet and came across this blast from the manila-folder past. I started thumbing through the cards, letters and notes from people from years gone by. Some I remembered, some I have forgotten, and many of them are now deceased. While it felt a little self-indulgent, it did not feel vain. Voices from decades ago spoke out once again. It felt affirming. It felt encouraging. It felt like I was valued — then and now.
What are you listening to? Who are you listening to? Can you dare to believe that you have value in the eyes of another? It matters, it really does, who and what you are listening to. A colleague of mine shared in a sermon, “It doesn’t matter what they call you. It matters what you answer to.” Amen on that! Priest and professor Henri Nouwen writes, “When we keep claiming the light, we will find ourselves becoming more and more radiant.”
I will overlook it if you do not listen to Nirvana. Nineties grunge is not everybody’s jam, um, I mean vibe. But whatever you do, I hope that you hear, especially because you are reading this, you are beloved, valued and needed on this good Earth. Now go out and be radiant!
