If I Had to Choose

Today was our first choir practice after the summer break, and honestly, it felt good to be back.

We started working on the Sisters concert again, the same concert we performed during the spring season. We enjoyed it so much that we decided to bring it back for another round.

And somewhere between the harmonies, the familiar songs, and catching up with everyone, my brain wandered off into one of those places it sometimes goes... 

You know those thoughts that start with one simple conversation and somehow end up becoming a fullblown debate inside your head?

Yeah. That happened tonight.

During the spring season, one of our choir members was away because she had become completely deaf. She had lost her hearing entirely. Thankfully, her hearing has now returned to normal, and tonight she was back with us.

Talking about it brought up a question I've asked myself many times throughout my life. 

If you had absolutely no choice, which would you rather live without? Your sight or your hearing?

We have so many senses that we rely on every single day that we probably don't even think about most of them. But sight and hearing somehow feel especially important.

And once that question entered my head, my ADHD brain apparently decided that choir practice was the perfect time to hold a philosophical conference about it. And honestly, all I wanted was to write about this... So it was torture to wait 😂😂 

What would matter more to me?

My sight… or my hearing?

If I lost my sight, I would never see my children again.

I wouldn't see the colors of a sunset, the faces of the people I love, flowers blooming, animals, beautiful places, or all those tiny details that make the world so visually fascinating.

I love beauty. I love photography. I love looking at things and noticing details. I love colors.

So the thought of losing my sight terrifies me.

But then I thought about music.

And that's where my answer became clearer.

For me, living even one day without being able to hear music... Without being able to block out the rest of the world with music... That feels almost impossible to imagine.

Music isn't just something I listen to.

It's something I feel.

It's memories. It's emotions. It's goosebumps. It's singing. It's harmonies. It's standing in a choir surrounded by other voices and feeling the sound travel through you. It is healing. 

It's hearing someone sing a song in a way that makes your entire chest tighten because somehow they reached a part of you that words couldn't.

I don't think I could give that up.

Of course, there would be other things I'd lose by losing my hearing. Conversations. Laughter. The sound of my children's voices. The freedom that comes with hearing what is happening around me. Even something as ordinary as driving a car would become a very different experience.

So, no, this isn't an easy choice.

But if someone forced me to choose?

I think I would choose blindness.

I think I would rather live in a world I couldn't see, but could still hear.

Because here's the strange thing I've learned about beauty. 

Not all beauty needs eyes.

True beauty comes from within.

You can feel it in a melody.
In someone's voice.
In a hug.
In laughter.
In the way someone makes you feel seen.

And speaking of hugs…

There was one little moment tonight that made me smile. Made me feel joyful.... 

The woman who had been away during the spring, because of her hearing loss, was back. I hugged her, and when I hugged her for the second time, she told me that I give really great hugs. The best hugger, I think she said. 

Then she looked at me and asked

"Where did the rest of you go?"

She had noticed. Noticed what no one else dared to mention. 

She had noticed that I've changed.

And maybe that sounds like such a small thing.

But to me, it wasn't.

It felt good.

After putting in the effort, after everything I've been doing, sometimes you just need someone else to notice that something is changing.

Tonight, someone did.

And somehow, after spending the entire choir practice thinking about what I would be willing to lose, I left thinking about what I've gained.

Maybe that's what my brain was really trying to tell me.

We spend so much time thinking about what we might lose, our sight, our hearing, our freedom, our youth, our old selves... 

But sometimes we forget to notice what is quietly coming back to us.

Our confidence.

Our strength.

Our joy.

Our ability to feel seen.

And maybe even a little bit of ourselves that we thought we'd lost along the way.

So yes, if you forced me to choose, I think I'd choose to hear.

Because as long as I can still hear music, I think some part of me will always know how to find the beauty.

And tonight, I got a little reminder that sometimes…

Someone else can see the changes in you before you fully see them yourself.

And... Well... Now I am exhausted, so I will just finish with saying Good night ❤️ 

- Merry -