Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep . . . (Genesis 1:2 NIV)
Staring at the empty box in the middle of the room, pausing midday to meditate. Summoning energy to move on to the next thing, but instead . . .
I stepped into the box to see if I fit inside. Sitting cross-legged and scrunched, I felt confined, yet safe. I let my mind meander. I thought of Patrick who uses abandoned boxes to build his inner world. I thought of friends who have moved or will be moving to other places. I wondered what I box in. I wondered what exists outside of the box. I felt childlike. Imagination chimed in with questions: Is this your boat? Are you flying a bi-plane? Or are you floating in a tube down the spring-fed Black River?
Then I thought, “What if my husband comes upstairs and sees me sitting in a box? ”
I quickly and clumsily climbed out of the box.
What would you do with an empty box?
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