I watch movies occasionally, and I watch documentaries.

Hear now, O seekers of wisdom, the words of Don DeLillo, the chronicler of modern silence and hidden truths: “I watch movies occasionally, and I watch documentaries. Virtually nothing else.” Though simple in appearance, his declaration is no idle remark. It reveals the discipline of a mind that chooses clarity over noise, depth over distraction, and truth over the endless stream of entertainment that dulls the soul. In his voice we hear the spirit of one who values art as a window to mystery and documentaries as a mirror of reality, while discarding the frivolous excess that would scatter attention and weaken resolve.

The meaning is this: in a world overflowing with images, sounds, and stories, DeLillo has chosen to narrow his gaze. By attending only to movies—crafted visions of art—and documentaries—records of truth—he resists the flood of trivialities that would drown the spirit in distraction. His way is the way of discernment, the ancient discipline of guarding the gate of the mind. For what one consumes shapes what one becomes. If the eyes are filled with emptiness, the heart grows hollow. But if the eyes behold meaning, the spirit is nourished.

The ancients too knew this wisdom. Consider the philosophers of Athens, who warned against the endless distractions of the agora, where gossip and spectacle filled the air. Socrates himself chose not to write down his teachings, but to speak and listen carefully, guarding himself against excess words and idle tales. He sought only what sharpened thought and revealed truth, just as DeLillo seeks only that which illuminates through art or grounds itself in reality. Thus the novelist follows a tradition as old as wisdom itself: the discipline of restraint in what one allows into the soul.

History gives us also the example of Marcus Aurelius, the Roman emperor and Stoic philosopher. Though surrounded by the pomp of entertainment—gladiatorial games, festivals, distractions for the masses—he turned away from them, preferring to write in his private journal, Meditations. There he instructed himself to consume only what was necessary for virtue and understanding. His refusal of excess spectacle echoes in DeLillo’s own choice: to fill the mind not with every passing distraction, but only with that which is purposeful.

Yet DeLillo’s words are not only about restraint—they also reveal reverence. To watch a movie is to enter the crafted imagination of another soul, to dwell for a moment in a dream that reflects life’s beauty, terror, or longing. To watch a documentary is to anchor oneself in the raw truth of human struggle, history, or the natural world. Both are sacred in their own ways: one opens the door to imagination, the other to reality. By keeping to these two pillars, he balances the realms of the possible and the actual, the dream and the fact.

The lesson for us is clear: choose with care what you allow into your mind. Do not let your soul be flooded with empty spectacle or endless noise. Instead, seek what sharpens you, what teaches, what deepens your sense of life. Enjoy art that moves the heart, and truth that anchors the spirit. To do this is not to reject joy, but to elevate it—to drink from pure streams rather than polluted waters. For wisdom grows not from excess, but from selection.

What, then, can you do in your own life? Watch less, but watch better. When you choose a film, let it be one that stirs thought or awakens feeling. When you seek knowledge, turn to works that reveal truth, not mere distraction. Guard your hours as treasures, spending them only on that which brings meaning. And beyond screens, cultivate silence, conversation, and reflection, for these too are the food of the soul.

Thus, let Don DeLillo’s words become a teaching: “Virtually nothing else.” Not as denial, but as discipline. For in a world that tempts you with countless voices, the true wisdom is not to listen to all, but to discern the few that matter. And when you live by this discipline, your heart will not be scattered, but whole; your spirit not distracted, but clear; your life not wasted, but filled with meaning.