Missed messages

I am beginning to notice what I notice.  Wherever I am -- in the car, in a store, at the church building, at home, in a restaurant -- I hear the small electronic noises.  Ringtones are ubiquitous.  Every object that harnesses electrons seems to beep:  cameras, washing machines, french fry cookers, cash registers, old fashioned telephones, iPads, laptops, alarm systems.

I notice those beeps.  It might be for me.  Maybe it's my phone.

OK, worse case:  If I don't get to my phone quickly enough, it goes to voicemail.  I'll get the message.  The urgency of those beeps has nothing to do with their importance.  But I hear them.  At some level, I must be listening for them.

But there are other things I need to tune in to:  facial expressions, tones of voice, the details of my daughter's day, crickets singing, squirrels talking, the quiet of the early morning.  If I miss those things, they don't go to voicemail.  I may miss the message forever. 

And often those messages are more important.