Boredom

Is there anything more thrilling these days than being bored?

What a joy to have nothing to do and all day not to do it; how entertaining to not be entertained; how very engaging not to be engaged.

Consider the paradigmatic cases of being bored: the droning lecture of your checked-out teacher in 7th grade History class; the long wait in the endless, non-moving line at the Department of Motor Vehicles; the one-way conversational monologue by the vegan cross-fitting conspiracy theorist sitting next to you on the train; yes, these all kind of suck, but they’re a luxury to be sure.  Ask anyone in Gaza or flooded Texas or drought-ravaged Sudan if they’d trade places and they’ll tell you: please let me be bored; if only.

So, it’s sort of strange that boredom is such anathema to so many.  Ride the bus or subway and you’ll see everyone on their phones, feverishly seeking entertainment.  In the line for coffee, people will immediately take out their device, the moment they queue up.  Apparently, you’re a total loser if you’re alone with your thoughts for even a second or two when you could be watching Instagram or playing Wordle.

Squarely in old man rant mode here, I observe that something important is being lost in this frantic effort to avoid being  bored.  But what could be more boring than never being bored?  And what’s so bad about boredom, anyway?  At least you’re not working on a chain gang.

Mom always used to say, “Only boring people get bored,” and there’s some truth to that.  Perhaps it should be modified, though, to be, “Only boring people find being bored boring.”  All it takes not to be bored is to find being bored interesting; becoming curious about boredom turns it from boredom to intrigue; interrogating boredom suddenly becomes fascinating.

Of course, I could be wrong; maybe we should avoid boredom at all costs. 

If so, you’d better stop reading this now!