In Praise of Boredom

Though we may not live alone, we have increasingly turned inward over the last two years. No matter if we previously described ourselves as spiritual or were committed to a more extroverted lifestyle, our inner lives have taken on a new magnitude. We had to get closer to ourselves because, collectively and individually, we were often at home, saw fewer people, slept more, loved more – or less – and saw, as if through a magnifying glass, what our individual lives are made of. Screen time. Family. Sex. Exercise. Shopping. Cooking. Eating. Maintenance. The confrontation with the essence of our inner landscape, our own nature, is not always pleasant. Not only because we may discover sides of ourselves that make us cringe or are challenged by behaviour that is hard to give up. We are used to being as productive as possible; even turning inward means ‘doing something’. Perhaps it is part of our nature, and we can’t help but strive for added value, or pleasure, whereas we would be so well served with a little boredom. Being bored is more than doing nothing. We could have many beautiful adventures of the mind, if we only allowed ourselves a little world-weariness from time to time! Staring holes in the air, our thoughts revolving around not knowing what to do with ourselves. Letting go, allowing the mind to drift, watching the clouds pass by. Letting go of the trivial as well as the significant thoughts that come to us, until they are boring too. Then we won’t be thinking of anything and delightfully unproductive. Until the next impulse arises and wriggles its way into our consciousness. When spring comes, new thought will turn into deeds.

Longingly Yours,
Susanne G. Seiler

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February Twilight

Smooth with new-laid snow,
A single star looked out
From the cold evening glow.

There was no other creature
That saw what I could see—
I stood and watched the evening star
As long as it watched me.

Sara Teasdale