Dreaming of Boredom
This is a guest-post from Shelly Fickes, my wife and the real blogger between the two of us.
When I was a kid, I remember feeling like days were endless. I was fortunate to grow up in sunny California, where the climate much of the year was just plain beautiful. Time was this strange thing that seemed to go on forever. This exquisite timelessness that I remember longingly as an adult was actually quite different than my reality as a kid. Days were not exactly endless in the enchanting and whimsical way that one would hope for. I remember that days would just drag on, and on, and on. I found myself constantly saying the quintessential childhood statement, “I’m bored! What should I do?” And then I would sit there, with a blank stare on my face, my chin in my hands, my eyes looking up to the sky as if I would get some divine inspiration from above. My mom, who was typically watching TV, would look at me and reply, “Well, go do something.”
Annoyed and frustrated, I would sigh, longing for adulthood. I wanted so much for the ability to make my own decisions, do whatever I wanted. I remember thinking, “Adults never seem bored.” And unfortunately, as a well-seasoned adult, I have found this to be absolutely true, and I hate it.
Adulthood very quickly brought the opposite of boredom. Basically since high school, every season of my life has been pushed forward with vigor and speed. There is always something to do, somewhere to be, something to finish, and never with enough time. Perpetually running late, and always behind in something, I find myself wishing for the days of my childhood where I would stare at the sky and simply watch the clouds go by.
This longing for stillness and peace from our breakneck speed is something that many of us deeply long for. We long for a moment to see clearly, to really be present, to think about our lives with intention and purpose. I think a lot of us do not even really know this is something we desire. We run around thinking that we just need to find that silent retreat, find our inner peace in yoga class, find our hobby, our state of flow. We trick ourselves into thinking we just need more time for recreation, for vacations, or whatever distraction promises us solace from our own personal chaos. It is there, in that far off place - that is where we will have the time to rest and recharge. That is when we will finally have the mental space to critically think about our lives and move past this season of survival mode. Yeah, sure. That’s when.
It seems too hard to manage, too far off in the future- that mental vacation we need. It is too difficult, too complex to coordinate.
Maybe it is not that complex? Maybe some of the answers we are seeking are sitting there, just below the surface. There is this quote that I love from Julia Cameron, author of The Artist’s Way:
“Don’t try to ‘fix’ the child’s boredom - rather, let the child find his or her inner resources.”
I love this quote.
But I don’t just love this quote for kids. I love it for adults.
I think we should interchange “child’s boredom” to “adult’s” boredom. What if we all said no a little more? What if we created margin for boredom in our lives? What if we had just a few moments of nothing to do - no work, no chores, no kids’ activities, no distractions, and we sat and found our own inner resources?
How many of us would find the inner resources and capacity for love? For meaning? For purpose? For change? How many of us would get off of the couch because we don’t want to just sit there and stare at a wall? How many of us would find our most profound answers in that time and space where we have a moment to really just be?
Not sure, but I’m curious.
Maybe this weekend, I will set aside some time to just look at the clouds— and see what divine inspiration comes my way. ;)