Friday, November 11, 2011

Two Minutes

I was in my kitchen this morning when the clock clicked over to 11:00. I didn't know where to look for the two minutes of silence, so I watched my microwave clock. For two minutes.

It always feels longer than I expect, standing there doing nothing for two minutes. I tried not to let my mind wander, but I kept thinking about stupid stuff. I wanted to take out the garbage. I wanted to wipe the counters. I wanted to get set up on the table to start the assignment I should have started two days ago. I forced myself to be quiet and still for two minutes.

I thought about what it would be like not just to be annoyed about having to be still. About what it would be like to also be hungry, or thirsty, cold or hot, unwashed and weighed down with pounds and pounds of heavy equipment. I thought about what it would be like if I had to be quiet as if my life depended on it.

I can't find the exact quote, but I thought I'd heard something about war being equal parts boredom and terror. Fortunately for those of us who haven't had to go to war, we're much more conversant with boredom.

Remembrance Day. It's the other Thanksgiving.

5 comments:

Nicole said...

I really really like this post. I think about those things, and wonder what it would be like, to be in a war and have to go through it all. It's amazing people come out of it, you know?

StephLove said...

Good thought.

Sandra said...

At least you made it through the two minutes. The radio station I was listening to this morning was all, "It's 11 o'clock, let's have two minutes of silence for our veterans..." About 30 seconds went by, then Britney Spears kicked in with Womanizer. Apparently the radio guy has a shorter attention span than my ADD kid.

Nan | Wrath Of Mom said...

Beautiful post. "Remembrance Day. It's the other Thanksgiving." -- beautiful.

Marilyn (A Lot of Loves) said...

I'm glad we have the freedom to be more bored than scared. We watched the WWII war planes fly over our house at 11am. They're so loud it had me thinking what it must have been like to be in a place where you heard them all the time.