Bored

April 6, 2020

Greetings from the inspired,

I was standing outside a store in a line waiting to go in, along with the others required to make a line possible. We were standing like pieces on some large gameboard, spaced exactly apart, each on our place, advancing only when told.  Somewhere inside mathematics determined when the next move was made.

A voice floated into our group: “I’m so bored!”  Which was pronounced ‘bo-o-oredd-ah.’  I knew the overemphasis and addition of syllables were created to alleviate the tedium, even for the moment it took to say it.

I had resisted looking at my phone or mentally fidgeting.  Instead I was occupying myself with the unusual tableau.  Thirty of us placed in an entirely unique situation, which none of us would have tolerated other than on perhaps Black Friday, waiting for permission to buy whatever inspired us to leave the sanitary safety of our homes.

The bored person, a willowy pre-teen a few spaces ahead, could not imagine a future beyond this moment, which she said “…would never be ohh-verrr-ah.”  It was a warm, sunny day, we stood under a blue dome as we waited, and even in the parking lot we could hear the sound of birds in trees gossiping about the either the weather or the unusual formation that humans were taking this season.

There is something in me that bristles when I hear the word ‘bored’.  I realize it’s not fair, a bit judgmental, so now I’ve admitted it, I can do it anyway.  I recognize many people are trapped at home, sometimes with a passel of kids, and the elements that we normally count on for distraction have dissolved to where we can’t see them easily. Even so, when I hear intelligent people tell me they are bored I roll my eyes a little. Ok, maybe more than a little.

When my children were young and felt reckless enough to say they were bored in my earshot I wheeled out the quote from Renard; “Being bored is an insult to oneself.”, going so far as to put it on the refrigerator. Yes, I was a fun Dad.  I felt like boredom was usually not applying enough energy to the moment, or using the imagination, which is nearly unlimited.  My response was to find some menial work with which to occupy my children, which I am sure did not lessen the boredom or increase the value of Renard’s message.

I have spent a few dozen hours in our county jail, not incarcerated, as many of you would have guessed, but thankfully only visiting.  It was there that I realized my arrogant attitude toward boredom was built on freedoms not everyone enjoys.  So perhaps I have softened a little on the subject.  Not comparing prison with being quarantined with your family, but you get the point.

Waiting is not my strength, even waiting in the sun, a part of some game whose rules I didn’t create or agree to.  I get agitated like anyone else, but I don’t think being impatient is the same as being bored.  Truth is, as I heard the word float over us in line, I realized I was already fighting it.  I thought about boredom to stave off succumbing to it.

The French word for boredom is ‘ennui’ borrowed from ‘annoy’.  It is a more substantial term, hints at mature, deep thinking as opposed to impatient juvenile reaction.  Ennui suggests that the boredom is more philosophical, that it is a reaction to the weariness of the world, not so much the lack of novelty on Netflix.  I like saying it, how it involves the lips.  So tell me you are suffering with ennui and I will sympathize.

Whenever I am inspired to tell people I am a runner, there will inevitably be some observer who will ask “Don’t you find it boring?”  Long monotonous miles, perhaps on a dirt road, or worse, a treadmill, with nothing to distract you from the dreariness.  How could you not be bored?

This question baffles me, did so even as I examined it in my sunny line, taking two giant steps forward as people made room somewhere in the game.  I thought of my run that morning, filled with sound and scent and color, and with it, as always, I was in of the company of my beautiful mind.  No reason to be modest, I was only thinking it to myself. 

It is almost fashionable to be bored in our current situation, being trapped, our options limited, we suffer in some way and our badge for this is the expression of boredom.  If it is yours, I would suggest, and would have to the willowy one in line with me, to seek surprise. 

Our brains thrive when we experience variety, delight, suspense, anticipation, surprise.  We cannot surprise ourselves, but we can offer it for others, and even in that act, we are transported further from the drabness of the jaded or uninspired or bored.  Delight will not always come of its own accord; we have to show some initiative in order to earn its company. 

Many of you are already marshaling your gifts and resources to fill the time with richness, to seek satisfaction in the moments, not to allow despair or anxiety to fill them instead.  Some meditate or listen to music or read.  Some walk in the woods or run country roads.  Some write.  Some create or cook or seek knowledge, or the company of others, even as it is limited today.

It is above all, intentional. When you find yourself short of options, I strongly suggest doing anything; move.  I don’t remember who said it, but here for you: it is easier to act your way into a new way of thinking than think your way into a new way of acting.   Just now, I impulsively went to the basement and spun a hula hoop around me, which did exactly what you’d expect.  Made me smile. 

The sun took its time moving, as it does, and I noticed that the shadows of the line people became part of the game too, grey doppelgangers competing with their colorful rivals.  And then, almost without realizing it, I was finished with my purchase and driving away.  I don’t know how long I was in line.  I completely lost track of time, which is often the case when I am delighted. 

Hope this finds you taking giant steps,

David

Copyright © 2020 David Smith