As I wait for someone in a park in my beautiful city, I decide, as I often do in situations like this, to take the opportunity and sit in a soundscape meditation.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with meditation or soundscape meditations I will attempt to explain what I like to encourage when I teach it.
Generally in our day we divide sounds into those we like and those we don’t. The sounds we don’t like we usually describe as noise. This is particularly true when we are feeling the negative effects of stress. When our minds are in distress.
It seems the higher our stress the lower our threshold is to cope with the cacophony of everyday sounds.
By labelling these everyday sounds as ‘noise’ we limit ourselves. We limit our tolerance, because noise is something that annoys us, grates on our nerves, and interrupts our thinking or sense of calm.
We also limit ourselves to see, or should I say hear, the connections that make up our world. Connections made by others perhaps going about their day. We limit our awareness of noticing, which is why soundscape meditation is very much a mindfulness meditation.
So as I sit with my eyes closed on this warm day early in Melbourne’s autumn, I start to hear so many sounds. I always find it amazing how when we quieten the eyes our sense of hearing seems to awaken even more.
Construction sounds are probably the most dominant sounds in my present, and so the ears are naturally drawn to them. Construction sounds are sounds of people working. Sounds of possibilities for the future for others to work or live in the city. Sounds of amazing machinery designed by engineers and creative inventors to help make our lives safer and easier. Machinery that someone else has also made, providing a job for them as well.
As I listen more closely to my city I hear the sounds of traffic. People moving. Looking to connect with others perhaps, possibly looking to leave the city for the weekend. Moving to jobs, for jobs. Moving to families or friends. Who am I to decide that this is annoying or unnecessary?
The ding of a tram bell indicates movement stopping or starting. A caution to others to be careful as they go about their life. Not all cities have this unique form of transport. Trams are synonymous with Melbourne, they are our history.
Suddenly the sounds of sirens. An ambulance followed by a fire engine. We can be tempted to think they are spoiling our serenity with their loud raucous bells, or we can understand that someone is in need of support and these people are doing everything they can to get there as quickly as possible to offer that support. Their sounds no longer offensive, more an act of selflessness, courage and compassion.
The wind is rustling the trees providing a touch of nature in this city soundscape. Birds are tweeting to each other as they either fly overhead or sit perched in the trees that create a softening of the city.
People are walking by. I hear their footsteps. Some are gentle, some scurry. Some push the autumn leaves along the pathway. Kicking autumn leaves always transports me back to childhood. Fallen leaves, a sign of the change in seasons. The earth in its continuous cycle of change, a change we can often be oblivious to as we go about the busyness of our day.
A soundscape meditation is a wonderful way to instantly become present. While I have talked here about the sounds, labelling them for the purpose of this blog, a soundscape meditation is actually a time when you don’t have to think. You don’t need to label, judge or assess the sounds of your present as good or bad, they just are.
A soundscape meditation can immediately ground us in the beauty of the world, a world full of connections that we may otherwise miss.
Soundscape meditation is easy to do and very portable, you can do it anywhere.
Give it a go and watch your mind attempting to label and judge, resist these temptations, allowing the world to be and you to just be in it.






.jpg)



