Awake

When I was 12 years old and my brother was 16, my parents decided to move our family out of the suburbs and into the country. We said goodbye to television reception which was an enormously big deal to both of us as we were  thoroughly addicted to entertainment—especially MTV, which we watched incessantly. To this day, if I hear a song from the 80’s I immediately see the video playing in my head. 

I remember my brother, early one morning soon after moving to the middle of nowhere, trying frantically to adjust an antenna on what seemed like the world’s tiniest TV. Forward, backward, side-to-side—trying desperately to find a picture—so desperately that the antenna broke off in his hand. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. We wondered what in the world we were going to do with ourselves. 

For years, every minute had been filled up for us. Now we could feel every minute ticking quietly by. Days that used to go by so fast when we lived near everything and everyone, and when we watched video after silly video, now seemed to stretch on endlessly with nothing to entertain us but the sound of the wind blowing in the trees and the birds chirping. 

It took a while to adjust, to learn to live in the quiet and let boredom do it’s magic. It will, you know? Boredom—the very thing we tend to run away from every chance we get—it’s like an alarm clock for creativity. It forces the mind awake in a way that activity cannot. It makes you look around with new vision—because suddenly you need to see. So what did I do with all those minutes ticking quietly by? I drew a lot. I went for a lot of walks and started doing my homework outside everyday on a bench my dad built. I noticed the trees and the wildflowers and birds. I noticed the stars. I read a lot of books and wrote poetry, and started memorizing Bible verses. The first verse I memorized was Proverbs 3:5-6— “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight.”

My life was utterly changed—my creative mind woken up— by a forced slow-down. Right now the whole world has slowed down. There’s real suffering and sadness. But, in the background, underneath, I wonder if some good is stirring? 

I hear the birds singing outside my window.   

~Amy