Halfway through the weekend of a youth retreat this past spring, I observed something profound (at least to me)…a few kids took off their headphones and started drawing during my lesson.

The rest of the weekend, those headphones had been on. For this group of kids, the retreat had a lot of stimulation going on. The singing, the yelling (the good kind), the dancing, the emotion of some of the talks. These kids needed a quiet space, like many of us do, and the headphones were how they made it for themselves.

But something happened when they sat down to draw during my class on ‘how to draw in church”… the headphones came off. And they stayed off for the next forty minutes. It was a special moment that I noticed.

In looking back on it, I realize this is not an isolated occurrence. I’ve seen it before.

What I’ve seen in other rooms

Now I do understand that the headphones coming off at the youth retreat isn’t at all groundbreaking. The act of drawing has been creating quiet spaces for people since the dawn of time, in other places, with very different audiences.

For example, I’ve had kids who sit next to me during church pick up pencils (the ones from the little holes in the pew) and start drawing along during the service (normally on their bulletins). They listen better, they remember more, they engage differently with what’s happening. Eventually, they begin to bring their own paper and drawing kits. It’s awesome to watch.

In another example, a drawing class I taught at a workshop in Milwaukee earlier this year drew a small crowd. They were adults this time. The work they do for a living can wear people out fast.

More than a few of them told me afterward that the workshop was soothing. Some showed me what they'd been doodling through the rest of the conference (which was the point of the class, actually).

It’s such a thrill for me to see when people pick up their pencils and pens.

Why is it such a big deal to me? It’s because drawing is a quieter way to find stillness (in a loud world), and it’s low-stakes enough that you can be “bad” at it while still participating. And by the way, I don’t think anyone is bad at drawing, but I know people think that about themselves.

Drawing gives people a way to be in the room with purpose. Quite frankly, they get to enjoy the conversation and listen deeply like me. Who wouldn’t want to share that?

Those headphones went right back on when the drawing session ended at the retreat.

The music, the singing, and the talks were waiting for them, and they needed the headphones again for the rest of the weekend.

But for forty minutes, the headphones were on the table, and they were drawing.

Have you considered how drawing can bring a stillness to your day? When is the last time you followed the lead of a child? Trust me, it’s worth a try.

Grateful you are here,

Wade