Boring is beautiful

Life with a newborn is boring and I love it. The days are a monotonous loop of washing clothes, cooking, cleaning, and baby cuddles. And I’m slowly realising how beautiful these boring early newborn days can be.

Feed, wind, change, repeat. As a breastfeeding mom, it’s a cycle that repeats over and over again every three hours. My daughter is slowly becoming predictable. Everyday, I learn a new behavioural cue. Like when she puts her tiny fists in her mouth, she is hungry. Or when her little lips form an O shape, it’s nearly time to change her nappy. I’m slowly settling in to motherhood, and things that used to take so much effort and brain power (timing feeds, latching, making sure we had everything in the changing bag) now feel somewhat automatic. We have semi-established our boring little daily routine.

Many moons ago, as a psychology master’s student, I wrote my final year research project on the relationship between boredom and the perceived sense of meaningfulness in our life. Now, I forget most of that research, but one thing I will always remember: boredom was almost always perceived as a negative emotion. It’s uncomfortable. When we’re bored, we feel a lack of purpose that can eat away at us. Humans are compelled to seek out meaning in our lives. In psychology, the pursuit of meaningfulness sits at the very top of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs.

Boredom was one of the main reasons I ended up getting sober six years ago. I was bored and unfulfilled with my life in my early twenties, so I drank to entertain myself. I loved drinking alone. It helped pass the time and I didn’t really have to sit with myself and the state of my life. It’s not that my life was in shambles, quite the opposite. I was in a healthy and committed relationship, lived in a nice apartment, and was doing my PhD. On the outside, everything looked great. But on the inside, I was falling apart. I had all these dreams, interests, and ambitions that I just couldn’t motivate myself to make happen.

I was so distracted by drinking and partying that there was no time to get creative and work on the things that brought me joy. I envied other people who were getting up and DOING things with their lives. My life wasn’t good enough. It was boring and unfulfilling. I created chaos through my drinking to provide a bit of entertainment instead of sitting with the discomfort long enough to take steps towards more fulfilling pursuits. There was so much I wanted to do that I felt paralysed. I wanted to take photos. Write. Read. Attend yoga classes. Go on hikes. Meet new people. Instead, I drank every weekend.

For me, quitting drinking was a lesson in sitting with boredom. Cravings were just urges to escape the boring bits of life. Being drunk was fun. Sobriety was boring. Oh, how wrong I was. Sobriety was a steady constant. There was no drama. No anxiety from drunken phone calls. No lost keys or wallets. No cancelling plans or work because of a hangover. No more dreading checking my bank account after a night out. Drinking and recovering from drinking took up so much of my time.

When I finally quit, there was endless white space in my calendar. And in that space, I began building a life I actually wanted.

I had the freedom and bandwidth to start doing the things I always wanted to do. I found my way back to creativity and enjoyment. I built a routine around work, exercise, and creating. The days were repetitive and I loved it.

I began reading and writing again. I went for two hour long walks everyday listening to podcasts and audiobooks. I found joy in simple moments like a hot coffee on a Saturday morning and a sunny afternoon in the park with a book. I didn’t need the alcohol to deliver a massive dopamine hit that would relieve my boredom. I began to enjoy the mundane moments of life. Boredom wasn’t something to resist, it was a cue to pick up a book or go for a walk.

Somewhere along the way after six years of sobriety, it seems that I forgot how beautiful boredom can be.

Before getting pregnant, I worked three jobs: two part time research jobs and running my own business. I also hosted sober community events almost every week. I was also planning my wedding. I was here, there, and everywhere. No week looked the same. No day looked the same. I mistakenly believed that I thrived on the lack of repetition until it led to severe burnout, but that’s a story for another day.

Pregnancy forced me to slow down in ways I wasn’t comfortable with. I had to stop working and I couldn’t get out much thanks to severe pelvic pain. I was bored again for the first time in years and I hated it.

Then, the boredom pushed me to get back into writing. I re-launched my Substack and started taking photos and writing again. Having this creative project alongside becoming a mother has been so important to me. There were so many times when I thought ‘well, there’s nothing to write about this week’ or ‘nothing here is worth taking a photo’ before realising that there is beauty to be found in the most quiet, mundane moments of life.

Since having a baby, I’ve realised those mundane moments are what we look back on and cherish. I used to pride myself on the variety I had built into my life, and now I whole-heartedly treasure these boring days at home with my little girl. My world has shrunk down to the size of a six-pound baby. And I love it, even if it’s repetitive and routine.

I have time to daydream about who she’ll become and how our lives will continue to change alongside her. I’ve spent hours in the dark, quiet night feeding her, simply soaking it all in. It’s not particularly exciting, although watching her grow and change is endlessly fascinating. Mostly, it’s a lot of the same.

And maybe that’s what makes it so beautiful.

Boring used to be a bad word. Now, I see it as a blessing.

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