I didn’t realize my post about loud libraries would elicit such fervent comments. Ergo, I think I need to offer a clarification or two, the first of which is I LOVE LIBRARIES! OK, and the rest:

#1. I’m normally not so cranky when I write a post and so my tone was, well, cranky. When you write about libraries, you shouldn’t be cranky because they are great institutions run by great people who have a love of the printed word. (Let us all give homage to words on paper even if the whole world is headed toward reading on iPhones.)

#2. I wasn’t picking on the Oro Valley library, I just happened to be there that day. I regularly visit the Nanini Library and the Joel Valdez Main Library as well, with an occasional jaunt to the Woods Memorial Branch Library and the cell phone chatting is present in all of them. I’ve mentioned noise to librarians before at those various branches, which is how I learned about the libraries as community center model. And most days, it doesn’t bother me, really. Yesterday was just one too many cell phone chatters.

#3. I am not an ogre who thinks there should be absolute silence in libraries, or stern librarians getting angry with library patrons, although it would be easy to think I believe those things from yesterday’s (cranky) post. I recognize that libraries have to be more welcoming than some might have found them in the past. Just the fact that every city library I visit is JAM-PACKED most days is evidence that libraries are doing things the right way.

#4. I do, however, mourn the loss of manners on the part of library patrons, especially, like I said, the people who should know better. You might expect teens to chat away oblivious to those around them; I was surprised to see it happening with more mature folks. I have no problem with small children running squealing through the library in joy; I love seeing that. And tutoring is wonderful (and have done it myself), even if it is in a louder voice; anything to help kids is to be praised and I was a dweeb to criticize (I was cranky!)  But talking on cell phones at length in full voice or not turning your phone ringer to silent? That seems impossibly rude and that’s really what pushed my cranky button yesterday.

All that said, perhaps the people talking on the cell phones yesterday do not have access to computers in their home. Perhaps they have to come to the library to conduct business by phone because they need both an Internet connection and a phone. Perhaps they lost their jobs and are trying to remake their lives and have to use the library as their office (this is reportedly happening across the nation) and they can’t whisper on the phone because whomever is on the line would then know that they aren’t in an office.

In other words, there might be plenty of reasons besides rudeness that people talk on their cell phones in what used to be a semi-silent space. I should have considered that before posting — instead of letting my cranky-self rule the day.

I wish I saw this sign in my local library (sigh). Image courtesy of CityofSound blog

So, I’m in the Oro Valley Public Library, a satellite of the Pima County Library System, and it is crowded and, more often than not, noisy. It appears all the laid-off people in OV now spend their days in the library – or maybe OV has always had this many self-employed folks. Whatever, they are noisy. Their cell phones ring and they answer them (!!!) right where they are sitting, frequently carrying on a detailed, fully voiced conversation.

There are also kind adults tutoring kids and, OK, that is a good thing overall, but I don’t really understand why the instruction has to be loud. And, a few minutes ago, a dog-trainer came in with a handi-dog doing what is necessary to train the dog (expose dog to people and places) but the chatter she carried on was not necessary.

This is all part of the movement of library as entertainment center to make libraries more accessible to the public. It has its positive points; one does want the public to use libraries, even if few of them read something actually printed on paper and head instead to the bank of computers. But there is something to be said about silence, as well as for basic manners.

Everyone knows the young imitate the old, so I would hope the 40 to 60 year olds could maintain some decorum and set an example for the younsters, but alas, it isn’t so. In fact, the Baby Boomer set, overall is louder than the younger library-goers. I just listened to a 60-something man at the computer station conduct a 15-minute conversation on his cell with someone about a Web page he was viewing. This guy sitting at a table behind me? His cell phone ring is turned up to “loud and annoying.” What is up with that? Turn the dang thing to vibrate, buddy!

You can’t stop progress, or so they say, so this new silent-never-more library-with-a-bookstore-feel train can’t be derailed. But perhaps the librarians could consider allocating space on the basis of noise level. You know, a tutoring section, a chit-chat section and then a research and study session where the old golden rule of silence – and no cell phones – applied. Just sayin’.

St. Frances de Sales, the patron saint of journalists and writers, once said, “Half an hour’s meditation each day is essential, except when you are busy. Then a full hour is needed.”

I’ve been thinking about statement almost obsessively over the past five days for two reasons: One, I read this article on the “radical idea” of people taking 24 hours of absolute solitude and, two, I got hurt exercising and have been confined against my will as my injury heals.

While every person’s road to happiness is different, there are some things that research shows increase happiness in general, and one of them is a little bit of silence. Not every day, necessarily, and not necessarily for a long time, but some silence sometime. Some of us – the ones already prone to overthinking everything – might actually be harmed by too much solitude, too much “think time.” These folks might be better aimed toward happiness by actively helping other people.

The most amazing group of teenagers I've ever worked with, at the end of our week of gutting two homes destroyed by Katrina so they could be reconstructed on the inside

I’m a middle-of-the-roader here: I need both active engagement and time alone, and I’ve found that as I’ve gotten older, the need for the latter has increased greatly, something I could never have imagined when I was 20. The times I’ve felt happiest (except for the births of each of my kids) have been when I’ve actually DONE something to help someone out, like when I helped gut houses in New Orleans with a bunch of teenagers after Hurricane Katrina.

I need evidence of my work, to see that I’ve done something concrete to make the world a better place, in order to get the hit of happiness that keeps me going in this life. Writing a check to a charity just doesn’t do it, nor does sitting on a board of a charity that does good work I never touch. I’m a hands-on, get-it-done girl who doesn’t like to be told “No,” or “Let’s have a meeting” or “Perhaps we should pray about it.”

Exhausted after a days work gutting houses, sleeping on the floor of a parish rectory that still, a year after Katrina, had no hot water and sporadic electricity

That said, I’ve found that if I don’t have some reflection time – about 60 minutes/week – my hamster-wheel brain jumps from one idea to another with not a whole lot of direction. I need silence, pure and uninterrupted, to prioritize where my energy would best be spent in this world of need.

I think for most folks, distracted by texting, tweeting, Web surfing, IMing, Face Book and every other technological do-dad, a little silence could go a long way toward offering some perspective and peace.

And most importantly, that silence would give us time to think, as opposed to having our brains be constantly revved up by outside stimuli. Great ideas don’t just jump into one’s mind fully formed, all the nits worked out. Creativity – be it in the science lab or the art studio – is fed by the ability to daydream. And daydreaming can’t happen when one’s mind (or a section of one’s mind) is distracted by NOISE.

One of the many New Orleans homes devastated by Hurricane Katrina. This was one of the first things we saw coming into the city.

So, all you happiness seekers out there, some questions for today: Have you ever sought out absolute solitude (no outside stimulation at all, including books) as a means toward peacefulness, happiness or a more contented life? When was the last time you just laid on your back looking at clouds, or, at night, looking at the stars? How does silence – or the lack thereof – affected your overall well-being? Or, are you a person who needs action more than silence for happiness?