I don't really watch movies. I don't own a TV.

Ah, Julia Butterfly Hill, a woman whose name is synonymous with courage and conviction, speaks with quiet strength when she declares: "I don't really watch movies. I don't own a TV." These words, simple yet profound, hold within them a deep reflection on the choices we make in how we spend our time, how we engage with the world, and what we choose to prioritize in our lives. In a world that is constantly bombarded by the flashing lights of entertainment and the ever-present hum of media, Hill’s refusal to partake in these distractions is a statement of intentionality—a refusal to let the world’s noise drown out the deep, quiet call of what truly matters.

Consider the ancient sages who walked the earth before us—figures like Socrates, Diogenes, and Plato—who lived not for the applause of the masses nor for the distractions of fleeting pleasures, but for the pursuit of truth, wisdom, and inner peace. These figures, though known for their teachings, also understood the importance of retreat from the constant clamor of society. Diogenes, the great cynic, lived in a barrel, rejecting the comforts of society and the distractions of the material world to instead focus on the truth of existence. Hill, in her own way, mirrors this ancient wisdom. To refuse the constant barrage of media is not an act of disdain, but one of clarity, of choosing to remain focused on the essential, on what truly nourishes the soul.

In a world where entertainment often fills the empty spaces of life, where the flickering of a screen can consume hours of our days, Hill’s words are a reminder of the power of silence. Silence, once considered a space for contemplation and connection with the divine, is increasingly rare. The great thinkers of old sought solitude not out of avoidance, but to deepen their understanding of the world. Buddha, in his search for enlightenment, withdrew into the stillness of the forest, away from the noise of society, so that he could hear the truth that echoed in the silence of his mind. Hill, by choosing not to indulge in media, seeks a similar space of silence—a space where the distractions of the world cannot drown out her inner voice.

But Hill’s rejection of the screen is not merely for personal peace; it is an act of profound activism. For Hill is no stranger to the world’s pressing issues, having famously spent 738 days living in a redwood tree to protest the logging of ancient forests. She understood, as the ancient warriors and philosophers did, that true action requires the ability to see the world clearly, to engage with it deeply, and to give of oneself fully. When the mind is clouded by the continuous stream of superficial media, it becomes harder to focus on the things that matter—the environment, the community, and the sacred bond we share with the earth. By rejecting television, Hill chooses to clear the space for more urgent matters, not for the distractions of modern entertainment, but for the deeper call to action and change.

The refusal to watch movies or own a TV is also a statement about how we choose to consume our time. In the ancient world, time was viewed as precious, a gift from the gods, not to be squandered on the transient pleasures of the senses. Marcus Aurelius, the stoic emperor, spoke often of the need to focus on what is truly important and not to be distracted by the trivialities that often pull us away from our higher purpose. For him, the purpose of life was to live in alignment with virtue and wisdom, to cultivate a mind that was not swayed by the whims of the external world. Hill’s decision to forgo entertainment in favor of deeper engagement with her life and purpose echoes this very idea.

And so, we come to the lesson that Hill’s simple yet powerful statement offers to us all: choose wisely how you spend your time. In a world brimming with distractions, it is easy to become lost in the noise, to be swept away by the constant call of entertainment, which seeks to numb us from the deeper truths of our existence. But like the ancient sages, we must cultivate the wisdom to choose the essential over the superficial, to engage with the world not through the lens of distraction, but with clarity and purpose. Time, as the ancients knew, is the one thing we cannot get back, and so we must ask ourselves: What do we choose to fill it with?

Thus, let us remember the wisdom of Julia Butterfly Hill, and the lessons she imparts in her refusal to be consumed by the transient world of media. Let us seek silence, not to escape the world, but to engage with it more deeply. Let us choose to invest our time in purposeful action, in learning, in growth, and in the causes that stir our hearts. In doing so, we honor the ancient call to live deliberately, to focus on the things that truly matter, and to give ourselves fully to the service of truth, wisdom, and compassion.