First, I suppose you’re wondering about my name change. After four years of being divorced, I decided to go back to my maiden name. Writing my memoir and researching my ancestry helped heal my negative association with the surname, and so I’m reclaiming it for the final phase of my life.
Once upon a time in corporate America, my boss at the time – let’s call her Teri, since that was, in fact, her name – shared this with a hiring manager in her recommendation of me: “She’s great, but don’t let her get bored.” This comment stayed with me more than any performance review. It serves as the warning label that comes on my box, just like “don’t feed Gremlins after midnight.”
The hiring manager confused idleness with boredom and assured Teri it certainly wouldn’t be a problem. Her mistake was understandable since boredom can be tricky to define.
For most of us, boredom occurs when we are missing purpose or meaning, when we don’t see the connection between activity and outcome. Boredom is typically a signal that we’re ready for change and greater fulfillment.
“Boredom: the desire for desires.” — Leo Tolstoy
This week, I’m bored on purpose. I eliminated external entertainment for one week – reading (books, magazines, newspapers, online articles), television*, music, what’s left of my social media (Substack and Bluesky) and YouTube.
*I allowed myself one college and one professional football game.
You might be shaking your head and wondering what in the world I’m up to now. It’s a question I ask myself regularly.
In my quest to become a more creative writer. I signed up for a group workshop dedicated to The Artist’s Way. The book was published 30 years ago as a “12-week journey to discover the inextricable link between [our] spiritual and creative selves.”
Just a month in, the author, Julia Cameron, dares to prescribe a week of reading deprivation as a “jump-start.” It’s a chance to better hear the inner voice, write inspired and blah, blah, blah. My reaction involved metaphorically slamming a door and digging my heels into the carpet with deep rivets. I’m not doing THAT. I have a book club selection to finish, required reading for my memoir class – and I just checked out five books from the library. (Yes, I know that’s too many.) I am busy learning and being inspired and soaking in the brilliance of other authors! I am too busy for this nonsense. No, nope, not happening.
After an outburst in our weekly group meeting and a week of inner debate, I realized how often I compare my own rough drafts to highly acclaimed, published authors. I remembered the writing block of the past six weeks. And then the realization - I needed to take a break from other people’s words, to rest from the standard they set, to interrupt the song lyrics on repeat in my brain, to clear out all the clutter.
Ever in need of control, I scheduled it for a week that wouldn’t conflict with existing commitments. I finished reading the book club novel. I completed my assigned homework in advance. I extended my library check-outs.
Then I turned off the TV. I put away the books. I closed Spotify.
It’s just a week, I told myself. Here’s how it went:
Day 1 – generally cranky
I dyed my hair orange. The box said copper, and yes, it’s temporary.
I drove to Portland and quickly experienced road rage. My singer-songwriter playlist usually keeps me upbeat on the highway. So when a driver stayed firmly next to me as she tried to merge onto the highway while I tried to exit in the same lane, my soundtrack was not there to keep me even keeled. Her failure to move out of my blind spot inspired a string of expletives I rarely use. I’m too embarrassed to quote them here. I did apologize to her and to the God I invoked.
At lunch, I found a large puddle of
orangecopper hair dye in the hollow of my ear. Cute.
I started researching RV living. I fantasized about renting out my house and travelling the continent for a year with two large dogs and a cat in less than 400 ft2.
I did not write.
Day 2 – in over my head
I baked a cake from scratch. It was lumpy, clumpy and frumpy but tasted pretty good. The kitchen was a disaster, with cocoa powder, flour and powdered sugar on the counter, the floor and the sink. I don’t understand why people love baking. It’s exhausting.
The college football team lost.
I purged three sacks of clothes from my closet and dresser.
I checked to see how much RV sites on the Oregon coast cost per night.
How is it only 8 p.m.? It was dark and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I did crossword puzzles until after midnight.
I asked a higher power for help.
I still did not write.
Day 3 – put the credit card away
I decided I needed a stand mixer to make cakes without lumps. It wasn’t my fault; my hand-held mixer was clearly not up to the assignment. And they were on sale. I wondered where I would put the stand mixer in the RV. I drew a blank, so I reluctantly decided not to splurge on the cute pink 5-quart model.
The pro football team lost. I felt the need to cleanse the palate from the loss, but how?
I rearranged my dresser drawers in the midst of a busy day because sweatpants should be t-shirt adjacent, not next to sheets. And it had to happen that exact moment.
Still, I did not write.
Day 4-5 – Becca’s home!
My youngest daughter spontaneously came home for a few days. An answered prayer? She helped distract me from the things I wasn’t doing. We found the best Monte Cristo sandwich in Oregon. We pored over the ancient photo albums I brought back from Ohio. I showed her the genealogy I’ve researched so far. She inspired a new interest in collaging, which (synchronicity!) is a task in this week’s The Artist’s Way chapter.
I reconsidered the stand mixer but instead bought a cute quilt I found while collaging. It will fit in an imaginary RV.
I accidentally read a click-bait article during some online research. As soon as I realized I was READING (!!), I closed it as if I had been caught watching porn.
Aha! I finally wrote something.
Day 6 – introspective
As I look forward to consuming content again, I hope I’ll do it with discernment, more conscious of my choices and the balance of creating vs. consuming. I hope I’ll choose a walk in the neighborhood admiring the colors and textures of the leaves instead of watching YouTube videos of earwax cleanings, pimple popping and pedicure makeovers (don’t judge me, they’re all incredibly popular).
But couldn’t I watch just one video? I peeked on YouTube to see what I was missing and sighed as I closed the app without watching anything.
I realized I was bored before this week started. Going down YouTube rabbit holes was boring. Reading online articles that were nothing more than clickbait - tempting but boring. Watching a day of football regardless of team and then listening to talking heads debate hot takes - boring. I just didn’t see it before.
But then I watched Bette Midler serenade Steven Colbert, and it made my heart happy. I don’t regret it, and I’d do it again. But not this week.
I wrote a little more.
Day 7 – a busy finale
Fortunately, my schedule for my last deprivation day didn’t allow much time to miss entertainment.
I still ruminated on the RV plan, ran the numbers, contemplated pros and cons.
Does the stand mixer seem more reasonable if I get it in blue instead of pink?
I wondered if I should get a tattoo.
I wrote a little more.
Reentry - everything is so loud
I’m not ready to turn it all back on. In the car, I started listening to Spotify and turned it off. I tried a football video and turned it off. I went back to silence.
I feel like I should have some grand conclusion from this experience. I don’t. Just an acknowledgment that I live in a world where I can read everything, watch anything, and consume as much as I want. And that is, frankly, overwhelming. Learning to be quiet, still and content was exactly what I needed. Next time I feel the pressure, the noise and the clutter, I can turn it all off.
And I’ll know to deactivate my credit cards before I do.
What’s your YouTube rabbit hole? C’mon, you can tell me.
No posts
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.