The Chalkboard Noise

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The sound hits before you’re ready.

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A single line of chalk dragged too slowly across a blackboard.

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It’s sharp.

Dry.

Somewhere between a squeal and a scream.

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Your shoulders tense.

Your jaw tightens.

Someone actually winces.

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It’s not just annoying, it feels personal.

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You shift in your chair, hoping the writing will stop and the explaining will start, because whatever’s going up there might as well be ancient runes.

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Letters.

Numbers.

Arrows pointing at other arrows.

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The chalk keeps screeching.

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Nothing changes.

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The chalk doesn’t pause.

The board doesn’t clear.

The symbols don’t soften.

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And yet, at some point, you realise you haven’t noticed the sound for a while.

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Your eyes are following the movement instead.

One mark leading to the next.

A pattern forming where there was only clutter before.

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The chalk is still scraping.

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You’ve just stopped flinching.

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Most of us remember the first time we saw E = mc².

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It didn’t feel profound.

It felt irritating.

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Three characters and a tiny little 2, pretending to explain the universe.

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It stayed meaningless until someone reframed it:

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“This isn’t about the symbols. It’s about how things relate.”

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Mass.

Energy.

Speed.

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Individually: abstract.

Together: undeniable.

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Picture another room now.

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Same blackboard.

Same chalk.

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The markings feel unfamiliar again.

Awkward.

Unsettling.

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And the sound?

Back to being unbearable.

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It’s tempting to blame the noise.

Or the pace.

Or the person holding the chalk.

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But the chalk was never the problem.

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Discomfort lives in the gap between marks and meaning.

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When you only see fragments, everything feels harder than it should.

When you see relationships, the strain disappears.

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Nothing changes on the board.

Everything changes in how you read it.

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Pressure works the same way.

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The work isn’t wrong.

The effort isn’t wasted.

The intent is usually sound.

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But when steps stack without structure…

when momentum gets undone by rework…

when clarity arrives too late…

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Even familiar processes start to feel sharp.

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There’s a principle hiding in plain sight.

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Remove what doesn’t belong, and work flows.

Let effort compound, and energy returns.

Increase clarity, and confidence follows quietly.

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The noise doesn’t stop.

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You just stop hearing it.

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We’re not teaching the whole lesson yet.

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This is just the sound before understanding.

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More soon.

Christiaan