MY (ALMOST) WEEK WITHOUT HEADPHONES

WORDS RACHEL EDWARDS

Calling myself an addict in reference to wearing headphones makes me feel like the guy who cycled past me on a stolen lime bike the other day and winked as if to say "I’m bad". Let’s face it, if I were to try to impress someone by proving I had an edge, it would probably go something like this: *leans in and (attempts to whisper but cannot whisper so says at normal volume)* “But what if I told you that I ignore the phone notifications that tell me I’ve exceeded the recommended volume limit... every… single... day?”. Pretty dangerous if you ask me.

It was high time I gave my ears some fresh air. Too long had they been on a nice cushion-y holiday and as a consequence they had developed a terrible work ethic. If the headlines are to believe and we should all be sunning our butt holes then surely the sun should be penetrating our ears too. More worryingly, people commenting on my lack of hearing had started to extend beyond my immediate family who pretty much refuse to sit in restaurants with me because I’m shouting, apparently.

Imagining a future where the naked ear will be so rare it will have to be censored

But when would this challenge actually begin? It didn’t seem logical to start it on a Monday because everyone knows Monday is no day to sharpen the senses. It’s the day to lull yourself into a sweet dissociation. And Tuesday seemed like an odd day to start a challenge - surely any challenge that starts on a Tuesday is destined to fail. In the end I could never bring myself to leave the house without my headphones, so the only way I finally ended up carrying this out was because I actually forgot them one random Friday morning.

Unfortunately, due to PMS the challenge was cut short. On that day nothing was getting in the way with me and Lana.

DAY ONE

On the first day I was completely underwhelmed as I sat in the park. I felt the way I imagine a porn addict feels like when having sex IRL. Even the rustle of the leaves wasn’t doing anything for me anymore. I found myself looking for a dopamine hit in the form of food, which, after a quick rummage in my bag, led to me digging into a jar of oily sundried tomatoes with bare hands, just to “feel something”.

DAY TWO

Drug addicts find replacements like yoga and God, headphone addicts find Merlin (aka Shazam for bird song). 24 hours in and I was starting to view headphones in the same way I see a baby with a dummy. How embarrassing, I thought, as I sat smugly on my roof and witnessed the Eurasian blackbird have a conversation with a robin. Everyone's so dependent on their little plastic ear plugs to numb them from the big bad world. I, on the other hand, was facing my thoughts, and surroundings, head on. I was waiting for friends to tell me "you've changed" but so far no one seemed to have noticed my new found depth or appreciation for the wonders of the world.

This is not a sponsored ad, however you should download Merlin

DAY THREE

On day three, I decided to go to the wine bar near my old house, where I couldn’t believe it when the woman serving me looked me dead in the eyes and said “I hope you have headphones, the guy outside will chew your ear off”. I dutifully told her about my challenge and she raised her eyebrows and said that pretending to be on my phone would be the next best thing.

She was right, the man was completely ignoring the polite responses turned to one word replies turned to grunts from the couple beside me that I had a suspicion might have been on a first date. I felt bad - as a seasoned people pleaser I would usually have taken the pressure off the couple by engaging with him myself, but I had been forewarned and my eyes were glued to my phones home screen. And anyway, I had been appointed (by myself) with the very serious task of conducting groundbreaking sociological research. For the first time in a long time, I was all ears.

I left shortly after he told a story - which I think might have been a joke - about his friend who stuck nicotine patches on her boyfriend as he slept, so that he would wake up with withdrawals after they broke up and would assume it was a sign of missing her. I wonder if this is what happens if you decide to join the headphone-less community - you start making more noise yourself.

Another use for the ear, modelled by my friend Liza

DAY FOUR

It was a 30 degree day, and most of what I heard was people talking about how hot it was. What struck me is that there is an almost constant noise of a suitcase rolling along the ground in the distance at all times. Less surprisingly, there is also an almost permanent cry of a baby, and not always at a distance.

Similarly to when I had just quit vaping (after a health anxiety breakdown which saw me beg the doctor to conduct an MRI on my throat whilst I reminded myself to burn my diaries before departing from earth) I was constantly rummaging in my bag for that little black box. It was a habit, and it was going to take more than four days to break it. I was also hoping that during the challenge I would experience at least one nights sleep without a song playing in the background, but unfortunately I still found 'Super Trouper' on loop in my in-head juke box that night.

FINAL THOUGHTS

On day five I crumbled. Although I didn't expect day four to be the final day, not wearing headphones on the Victoria line had started to feel like a form of self-harm. My hard launch back into the world of headphones saw me go on a complete binge. Podcasts, songs, voice notes - you name it, I listened to it. I didn't even hear the fire alarm go off in my house. And now? I like to think that I don't need headphones, I could toss them away if I had to. But isn't that what all addicts say? Anyway, at least I can identify the call of a great tit now.