I was deeply touched by a particular scene in Veronica Roth's book FOUR, where Tobias Eaton steals a moment of solace for himself in his room. He reaches down and retrieves from under his bed a chest of items that he had collected over his young life, and these items, hidden from his father for so long, captured in a moment the ideal that there is a profound beauty in all things that are broken and overlooked. And so as I read and re-read that particular scene I thought about all the "broken" things that I (if I were to own such a chest) would place in it; and here are but a few:
A broken pen: To me the pen is the epitome of defiance and bravery. It is one of two instruments which I believe can turn the course of destiny in a single stroke. Many wars have been started or ended by an eloquently worded sentence, and likewise many hearts have been won and lost by an equally constructed phrase. One should never underestimate the power of the written word I have been told, and I for one do not. The scribes of history have placed eternal notation which they turned to words which in turn formed phrases down upon stone, parchment and paper, since the beginning of time, and without them; we would have no collection of what came before us, what is, and what may be. So the pen in my chest is a tribute to the written word and to remind myself that without the ability to record my thoughts, they would disappear into that deep chasm called obscurity.
A shattered light bulb: A broken bulb, an item that can fill a room with such light which can chase the darkness away. I would place this item in my chest because perhaps there must be a certain level of darkness in order for me to find the light. This bulb would remind that no matter how far I stray into the darkness, I can always choose to turn on the light.
A Broken Bow: I would place a broken bow of a violin into my chest because I believe it is, along with the ability to write, an item used to capture one's thoughts almost perfectly. I have always been fascinated by the grace with which a violinist can use a simple bow to draw forth a combination of sounds that can move one deeply.
A forgotten pocket-watch: Time to me is a concept that seems to be ever-elusive and one which I seem to always loose, but I've found that if I can apply William Blake's concept about eternity existing in an hour, I can fully capture time's elusive nature in a moment. And this is why I would place a discarded pocket watch into my treasured chest. Time can be lost, but we are always gifted with the present moment.
Withered violet petals: "From the withered tree, a flower blooms" this profound proverb sums up the nature of transformation and resiliency, and to me, represents everything that Tobias placed in his chest beneath his bed. It represents the ability to rise strong after falling. The shrivelled petals represent the revolutionary ideal that we can make a choice not to be callused by harsh treatment, but rather choose to bloom beautifully like the violet in spring, after a harsh winter.
Thank you Tobias Eaton, you have shown me what it truly means to be a courageous young man.
<4
T.B
