It’s a question we often ponder as filmmakers and educators, but one that feels important to all humans. Why does sight dominate our senses? What might we gain by allowing more space for sound to communicate its secrets? What are we missing if we don’t listen closely?

In 1974, Hildergard Westerkamp outlined a wonderful activity, Soundwalking, that allows us to slow down and actively listen to the world around us. An excerpt explains:

“A soundwalk is any excursion whose main purpose is listening to the environment. It is exposing our ears to every sound around us no matter where we are. We may be at home, we may be walking across a downtown street, through a park, along the beach; we may be sitting in a doctor's office…Wherever we go we will give our ears priority. They have been neglected by us for a long time and, as a result, we have done little to develop an acoustic environment of good quality. Listening in that way can be a painful, exhausting or a rather depressing experience, as our ears are exposed often to too many, too loud or too meaningless sounds. Trying to ignore them, however, makes even less sense. Since we cannot close our ears, we cannot help hearing all sounds. No matter how hard we try to ignore the input, the information enters the brain and wants to be processed. Physically and psychically, we still have to compensate for any noise even if our ears perceive it unconsciously. In addition and most importantly, we desensitize our aural faculties by shutting out sounds and thereby not allowing our ears to exercise their natural function. Unless we listen with attention, there is a danger that some of the more delicate and quiet sounds may pass unnoticed by numbed ears and among the many mechanized voices of modern soundscapes and may eventually disappear entirely.”

It’s so true. In our fast-paced world, we often overlook the rich tapestry of sounds surrounding us. While this soundwalk exercise might initially feel uncomfortable, it offers a valuable opportunity to pump the breaks, pay attention, and connect with our immediate environment. By fully engaging our senses, we can develop a keen ear for the subtleties and nuances of our surroundings.

I regularly assign Soundwalks in my university film classes. One of my students, Joselyn, once shared her transformative experience. She chose a quiet spot under an old oak tree on campus and began by focusing on the sounds closest to her—the rustling leaves, the gentle hum of insects, and her own steady breathing. Gradually, she extended her listening to the mid-range sounds: distant footsteps of passing students, the rustle of paper as someone read on a nearby bench, and the faint clinking of a bicycle chain. Finally, she reached out to the farthest sounds: the muted roar of city traffic, a dog barking in the distance, and the echo of a distant conversation. Sarah found this exercise deeply meditative and insightful. For the next week she said she found herself astounded by the realization of how much sound she had been blocking out in her everyday life.