WHAT IT COSTS YOU TO ELIMINATE BOREDOM

This is the second post on Boredom. In my first post, I looked at Boredom from a phenomenological lens (“What do I do about boredom?”)

In this post, I’m looking at Boredom from an ontological lens (“Who am I being about boredom, and what does that allow or constrain for me”)

My relationship to boredom stems back across the decades.

When I sat in school and found myself bored, I would set the timer on my watch to go off every thirty minutes, slowly marching my way towards the end of the day. In the last half-hour of class, I would set it to go off every five minutes (I’m sure the teacher loved this).

When I worked at McDonalds and other jobs like it, I would drink coffee after coffee to stimulate myself in an attempt to create some kind of interest — some kind of excitement throughout my otherwise busy but dull shift.

While in Law School, sitting in classes I found dull, I’d load up Wikipedia and click random wikipedia articles to read (one out of every five would end up being fairly interesting).

I often used alcohol as a means to mitigate for my boredom — when I was out at a social event and was starting to get bored of my company, I’d order another beer. Just a bit of a buzz to keep things going.

Underneath each of these strategies, my relationship to boredom is revealed:

• 1. Boredom is a problem;
• 2. Boredom is solved through stimulation;

 

Once boredom is put in this frame, life quietly assembles itself around them.

I’m always reliable to have stimulation on hand.

I’m good at avoiding situations where there’s a risk of being trapped without any stimulation.

I tend to regularly find myself busy and with a lot on the go.

The through-line in all of this is my need to mitigate and manage for boredom. I’m relating to my boredom as an external problem, and non-negotiable.

These strategies ensure that I never have to sit in boredom for very long, which is great, assuming that I’m right about the story that “boredom is bad”.

But, I’ve noticed lately that there are some problems created by this relationship.

Biggest of all is that I’m not very reliable to create the kind of stillness in which my intuition an wisdom can emerge.

Moments or periods of extended tranquility tend to be available only once or twice a year when I’m on vacation.

I don’t have a lot of space to support longer tasks that might require allowing myself to sit, without doing much, for extended periods of time while I’m marinate and percolate on thoughts.

So my relationship to boredom allows certain things, but also makes other things unavailable.

My leadership is calling me away from a life where I either get to ensure I’m never bored, or that I have lots of spaciousness. Setting aside the belief that I can have one or the other.

The work can only continue on the other side of that choice.