This is what happened: Being home at 20:49

"Three hours? That's such a long time. And you do it alone?"
"Well, it'd be pretty useless if you could have a Retreat of Silence with other people."
"How do you sit still for three hours? We try to get the high schoolers to do it for five minutes, and they knock out."
"I think most people just sleep."


If you ask me what I've been doing since I am home, I would probably tell you, "Nothing."

That's not very close to the truth, though.

Having come home with minimal amounts of things, and especially not my marimba, has let me to be painfully aware of the state of boredom. And this state of boredom has made me aware that I cannot be still.

What used to be my first instinct upon getting up in the morning (or sometimes in the afternoon, as vacation would allow) - warming up and practicing marimba - has been transmuted into an improv session on the piano (and sometimes vocals, and then I wonder why I can't even hit an Eb having woken up five minutes ago). I have been sporadically reading, viciously catching up with people, cleaning, fundraising and doing clerical work in preparation for BAyUP. I have managed to turn a previously barren room into a barely navigable place, with all my multitasking.

I am free, but the less obligations I have the more I create things to do. I'm mentally drafting a blog post about Marimba and Heaven, and another to put on our class blog regarding children's ministry. I worry about reaching my fundraising goal, and communicating in Chinese to parents who would probably willingly give.


"I think if we could do whatever we wanted, we wouldn't do anything and just sit around all day."
"What? If I could do anything, I'd definitely be playing marimba all day."
"Yeah, David, you're a do-er, aren't you?"


Why can't I sit still?