Beneath The World’s Tremendous Roaring
By Lynne Carrol
The invention and refinement of the radio, and the easy communication across countries and continents, must have been absolutely life changing for the thousands of people who tuned into their radio sets in the early 20th century. There had of course been the postal system and messages carried by travelers before radio. Radio was instantaneous, bringing live news to your home certainly within hours of events happening.
What a difference from the late 19th century when news travelled at the pace of a horse, or a train at best. Remote places not knowing what was happening in towns and cities far away. And when the news came, I daresay it may have been embellished or having only a modicum of truth in it. Simplified according to the number of people involved in passing the messages on. A sort of lengthy game of Chinese Whispers.
And now the radio seems quite slow when we can carry instant news reports on our phones. There seems no time lapses at all between events and global awareness in the shape of videos clips and reportage from scenes of devastation, violence natural disaster. And these events have a currency, with news outlets of all viewpoints racing to broadcast from hot spots around the world. It can all be rather overwhelming!
Listen to any news program and I defy you not to feel battered and bruised within minutes. The world in chaos, burning and going to hell in a handbasket. Would I rather not know what’s going on? Well, frankly sometimes I wished I lived in 1603 when the news of the death of Elizabeth I took four weeks to reach my home town in England (200 miles away) and by then a new King had been crowned, Scotland and England’s thrones had been combined and a whole new regime had already started to enact laws. On the whole, though, I keep up with the news, national and global. It’s hard to avoid it. It is loud and demanding and leaves little room for contemplation or thoughtful reaction. It is immediate, repeated endlessly and moves on from crisis to crisis. There are speculation and justification and opposition but rarely informed and measured debate. We seem to live life in blaring headlines. Then there is the speed of the ever-changing stories and things are dropped from headlines. The plight of the Gazan people has already fallen from the front page and has been superseded by the next headline. In this way it easy to “forget” those impacted by huge events in by the sheer number of news items that blaze across our screens.
A 93-year-old neighbor of mine said of her Christmas festivities this year, “I’ve given myself the gift of not listening to the news every day.” I hear this sentiment increasingly amongst my friends who are limiting their availability to be bombarded by events. It seems in a way that this is justified self-care and mental health self-preservation. When the roar becomes too loud, when events seem so dire, when there are hatred and violence seemingly in every corner of the world and amongst so many world leaders, how can we respond? Not listening to anything that distresses us is obviously not the answer. We have a care and responsibility for those whose lives are devastated by war, famine, addiction, and violence. But even that task is overwhelming too. On a global scale, I can do nothing. But there are many things I can do.
On my beloved BBC radio, which I admit is my usual source for news and entertainment, there is a program called The Hope Café. It is a quiet, gentle series where each week an extraordinary ordinary person comes to the Café to chat to the presenter. There is tea, of course, and cake and the participants settle in for a chat. Guests include the School Crossing Lady, who for fifty years has watched thousands of children across the road to school, quietly giving food vouchers to parents or breakfast bags to the children she knows have had nothing to eat. The gentleman who arranged a meeting place where single dads could gather with their children at weekends for free and be offered support from people in the same situation. The young siblings who work to raise money for their local hospice every month, by baking cakes and washing cars. And so many more. It fills my heart with pure joy to listen to these people who are making their lives count in not so small ways. It restores my faith in human nature and goes some way to shutting out the roar of the world. These good folks will never appear on national breaking news slots, yet what they do is so essential, so courageous and generous. They see a need or stumble across a gap to be filled, and they make a difference in a positive way. Big political decisions and actions have huge consequences but so do the small everyday acts of kindness and thoughtfulness. Running local food banks, donating hats and coats to our refugees, teaching ESL to newly arrived parents from Haiti and setting up activities that enrich and support. These are the balances that weigh against my global roar. These are the things that sustain the spirit and keep us true to the beliefs we hold.
It’s all a question of balance. Listen to the roar, but don’t let it overwhelm you. Find space for the quiet contemplation and the enacting of small acts of generosity. Heaven knows, there is need enough for people of goodwill in all walks of life. That groundswell of good deeds and kindness from the great majority of ordinary people may one day drown out the roar of the World’s Chaos, but until then, when you’ve tuned in long enough…drop out and think of the thousands, nay millions, who are holding candles against the darkness and decide if you could join their ranks.
