Lately, I have been thinking a lot about seasons. Not just the weather kind, although April is doing its usual thing with rain, a bit of sun, some cold, and everything in between. But the kind of seasons that reflect growth. The ones that quietly remind you that change is happening, even when it does not feel like it. Then naturally, as my mind tends to do, I started tracing that same season changes through my own life.
Spring has a way of doing that. Things begin to shift. The snow melts. Flowers start to bloom. And suddenly, you realise something new is taking shape. And now you’re thinking: Wait, I thought this was a hearing aid TED talk? Stay with me. I’m getting there.
On Easter Monday, while taking a walk, I passed by a hearing centre and decided to step in out of curiosity as I wasn’t looking for anything in particular but something made me stop and go in.
And I was honestly amazed.
The hearing aid technology in that room was nothing short of remarkable. Without going too technical, we are talking about devices engineered specifically to isolate your voice in a noisy environment, hearing aids with AI-dedicated chips, motion sensors, dynamic conversation enhancements and so on. Things that, not long ago, existed only in someone’s ambitious imagination.
I can’t promise we’ll never say “huh? what did you say?” again though, but the frequency of “huhs and fake uhn uhns” should definitely be coming down. There is a common misconception that hearing aids work like glasses, that you put them on and suddenly hit 100% clarity. The leaves are greener, the sky is bluer etc. Here’s what most people don’t understand about hearing loss: a hearing aid is not a cure. It is a fighting chance.
In reality, it’s often a journey from hearing at 20% to finally having a fighting chance at 55%. However, with what I saw last Monday, I genuinely believe we’re pushing 60, maybe 65%. That is a 10% jump!
To a person with “perfect” hearing, that might not sound like much. But in our world, that is a game changer. It’s the difference between isolation and connection. I sometimes find myself taking off my hearing aids and handing them to people just so they understand what we’re dealing with. We are essentially walking around with high-powered microphones in our ears.
I remember when I got a new pair of hearing aids about 6 or 7 years ago. The audiologist mentioned, almost casually, that I could connect my phone and take calls directly through them. I genuinely did not believe him. I thought he was being kind. I looked him dead in the eye and thought, “That is a lie.” But we tried it there. And I was in awe.
It wasn’t perfect at first, there was a learning curve, some quirks to work around but over time it got smoother. And so, slowly, did my anxiety around phone calls. Anyone who’s hard of hearing knows that phone calls have historically been their own special kind of stress. That fear started to loosen its grip.
A friend once told me I had AirPods before AirPods were even a thing. And honestly, that checks out. I’d be walking down the street, talking to thin air because my hearing aids were not visible. People would look at me like I’d completely lost it and was talking to myself. I’d have to lean in and say, “I am on a call” before showing my phone, leaning close to them and pointing at the tiny tech tucked in my ear for show. If that was the “wonder” then, imagine where we are now.
So yes, I know I was supposed to talk about the changing of seasons. Springtime arriving, winter packing its bags, the world softening again after months of grey. And in fairness, I did walk outside on Easter Monday and feel all of that. The air had that particular quality it only gets in April.
But I think the more honest reflection is this: there are different kinds of seasons. There is the one happening outside your window, and there is the one happening quietly inside a field you’ve been navigating your whole life. And just like the flowers outside, the world for the hard-of-hearing community is blooming. We are moving out of a winter of “just getting by” and into a springtime of clarity and confidence. It’s a marvelous work in its own right. Isn’t it?
