Get Bored
I don't know about y'all but I've experienced a lot within myself during this Covid-19 quarantine. Anxiety, panic, fear, joy, abundance, confusion, peace, boredom. As I was reading in Glennon Doyle's book Untamed, she was writing about how we need to get bored. We need to put the phones down and get old fashioned bored. The boredom will ultimately lead to creativity. We have to be stuck with nothing to do, that's when we pick up the paint brushes, the instrument, the pen and we dig into our thoughts, the things that move us, the life within us. The other day, I was attempting to force math worksheets on my 5 year old to give him some structure, he breezed through them, done in two minutes. As I was about to print out some more school something he exclaimed, "but mom this is so booorrring". That was literally the first time I'd ever heard him use that word. Boring. The day after reading Glennon's chapter on boredom. Instead of ranting to him about the importance of learning and how it's not always fun, I leaned more into the idea that he could create something. So I asked him, "okay buddy, what do you want to do?" and immediately his eyes lit up. "A puppet show!" he exclaimed. He instantly gained energy that was contagious while directing me what to make, what to cut out, general creative direction. His puppet show about birds keeping their nest safe during a storm was brilliant. I would have missed it if I hadn't leaned into that bored energy, his energy bringing me energy, it was contagious.
That got me to thinking. What's deep in me that wants to come out? I've noticed the past two years I've spent reading book after book, diving into knowledge, gaining more understanding about this world, about life, about meaning. It's like I can't get enough and it's a little manic. The other day I went for a run and popped a Brene Brown podcast in my ears in an attempt to manage my anxiety about all of this and myself. Halfway through the run I noticed nature, the flowers, the rain falling on the leaves and suddenly the podcast became simply noise. I wanted to notice, to feel, to think, to process what was going on. I rarely listen to podcasts on runs because this time is usually set aside for those things, but being cooped up with less free time I was frantic for time to learn more. As I put the headphones away, noticed, processed, words began to flow through me. Through my heart, my head. Faster and faster until I absolutely had to stop running and had to start writing. In the pouring rain. And I felt so alive.
As I was talking to my therapist over Zoom about this I realized I haven't been allowing myself to be bored, to sit with my thoughts as much as I need too. I've been consuming, not creating, all birthed out of anxiety and insecurity. I'm still struggling to trust myself, my ideas, my own creativity and imagination. And I'm realizing I'm beginning to reach a point where where I glaze over what authors are saying because I’ve read it before, heard it, but maybe some of it has yet to be applied, sink all the way in and transform. That realization pushes me to be quiet, be still, trust myself, to be patient. Put down the book and write my own ideas, the thoughts constantly swirling in my head. I originally saw all this free time as time to read, read, read. Now I'm realizing it's a time to write, to paint, to feel the boredom and let it inspire me, to imagine and day dream.
Mornings with the littles can be a little tricky in this shelter in. I feel like I need to be teaching them things, but traditional schooling sounds so mind numbing to me. Even I'm bored with sitting at the table and watching Clement do math problems and spelling. Just sitting there, feeling antsy I've felt like I just needed to paint, which means, family painting time. Week one of quarantine Clement suggested I paint the world in a heart, which was very interesting as I had already had that idea in my own head. The aligning of that made my heart beat fast. So we took an hour looking at the map, talking about countries, who speaks what language, which country is which, which countries our families have came from, all while painting. We talked about loving people who are very different from us, embracing who others are and what they value. Week two, I was feeling extremely sluggish, tired, anxious, unmotivated. I painted a big bright rainbow inspiring hope and joy in me. Glennon talks about how hope = energy. In those brush strokes I felt myself perk up. Felt the bold, bright color give me life.
Week three, I'd been processing holding the tension of absolutely loving this slow, introverted life with my family and the pain, the loss, the death I'm seeing in the world and my own privilege. I had done yoga outside the day before, the sun on my right the moon on my left, and it struck me how humanity, life, is made up of this tension. The sun and moon coexisting. How complex humans are, we hold joy, hate, love, wrath, motivation, lethargy, grief in our bodies and IT IS GOOD. Letting each side of these big feelings right now inform the other. I've desperately been craving slow mornings, nothing to do, time just being with my family and I got it, but the thing that brought that desire about is full of pain, financial loss, physical health loss, anger and confusing. Seeing the people who aren't protected from this, the poor, the homeless, the elderly while I'm sitting at home living my most content, protected life. Noticing the homeless lined up for food, crowded, their tents crammed into the shared space, bodies huddle together amidst social distancing. They’re unprotected, society in general doesn’t seem to care what happens to them if they get the virus. I’ve witnessed more than one shouting match between strangers over little things, the anger and rage clearly evident in their bodies as they curse each other, the fear and confusion palpable. Then I go to my happy little home and breath in contentment and safety, joy in children’s eyes at getting all this time together, as a family. That's hard to hold. In this holding, this sitting and seeing eyes wide open, the stirring for a more beautiful, true life (can you tell I've been reading Untamed, ha) is growing and building within. Dreaming of a world where the systems come crashing down. Where it doesn't matter what color of skin or gender, or non-gender you are, how much or little wealth you have, all are accepted, loved, cherished, taken care of. Out of that came some writing, a painting of an eyes of love seeing both the warm and cool toned sides, with abundance and not scarcity. We can all sit and contemplate this, create out of it, dream of the change we want to see. Feel ourselves come alive with this hope, give us courage and energy to implement it.
I'm dying to see what comes out of this. The art, the music, the books, the poetry, the ideas, the dances, the food, the moments, the voices, the souls. So please, go get bored. Quit the screen, stop the distractions, watch your kids, allow them to lead, just sit, see what's in there dying to come out. Play around. It's not serious, it's fun. It should feel good, playful, meaningful, fulfilling, joyful. Or it might feel like a release of the hard, the anger, the fear, the dark, the confusion. We were made to create, now is the time.
That got me to thinking. What's deep in me that wants to come out? I've noticed the past two years I've spent reading book after book, diving into knowledge, gaining more understanding about this world, about life, about meaning. It's like I can't get enough and it's a little manic. The other day I went for a run and popped a Brene Brown podcast in my ears in an attempt to manage my anxiety about all of this and myself. Halfway through the run I noticed nature, the flowers, the rain falling on the leaves and suddenly the podcast became simply noise. I wanted to notice, to feel, to think, to process what was going on. I rarely listen to podcasts on runs because this time is usually set aside for those things, but being cooped up with less free time I was frantic for time to learn more. As I put the headphones away, noticed, processed, words began to flow through me. Through my heart, my head. Faster and faster until I absolutely had to stop running and had to start writing. In the pouring rain. And I felt so alive.
As I was talking to my therapist over Zoom about this I realized I haven't been allowing myself to be bored, to sit with my thoughts as much as I need too. I've been consuming, not creating, all birthed out of anxiety and insecurity. I'm still struggling to trust myself, my ideas, my own creativity and imagination. And I'm realizing I'm beginning to reach a point where where I glaze over what authors are saying because I’ve read it before, heard it, but maybe some of it has yet to be applied, sink all the way in and transform. That realization pushes me to be quiet, be still, trust myself, to be patient. Put down the book and write my own ideas, the thoughts constantly swirling in my head. I originally saw all this free time as time to read, read, read. Now I'm realizing it's a time to write, to paint, to feel the boredom and let it inspire me, to imagine and day dream.
Mornings with the littles can be a little tricky in this shelter in. I feel like I need to be teaching them things, but traditional schooling sounds so mind numbing to me. Even I'm bored with sitting at the table and watching Clement do math problems and spelling. Just sitting there, feeling antsy I've felt like I just needed to paint, which means, family painting time. Week one of quarantine Clement suggested I paint the world in a heart, which was very interesting as I had already had that idea in my own head. The aligning of that made my heart beat fast. So we took an hour looking at the map, talking about countries, who speaks what language, which country is which, which countries our families have came from, all while painting. We talked about loving people who are very different from us, embracing who others are and what they value. Week two, I was feeling extremely sluggish, tired, anxious, unmotivated. I painted a big bright rainbow inspiring hope and joy in me. Glennon talks about how hope = energy. In those brush strokes I felt myself perk up. Felt the bold, bright color give me life.
Week three, I'd been processing holding the tension of absolutely loving this slow, introverted life with my family and the pain, the loss, the death I'm seeing in the world and my own privilege. I had done yoga outside the day before, the sun on my right the moon on my left, and it struck me how humanity, life, is made up of this tension. The sun and moon coexisting. How complex humans are, we hold joy, hate, love, wrath, motivation, lethargy, grief in our bodies and IT IS GOOD. Letting each side of these big feelings right now inform the other. I've desperately been craving slow mornings, nothing to do, time just being with my family and I got it, but the thing that brought that desire about is full of pain, financial loss, physical health loss, anger and confusing. Seeing the people who aren't protected from this, the poor, the homeless, the elderly while I'm sitting at home living my most content, protected life. Noticing the homeless lined up for food, crowded, their tents crammed into the shared space, bodies huddle together amidst social distancing. They’re unprotected, society in general doesn’t seem to care what happens to them if they get the virus. I’ve witnessed more than one shouting match between strangers over little things, the anger and rage clearly evident in their bodies as they curse each other, the fear and confusion palpable. Then I go to my happy little home and breath in contentment and safety, joy in children’s eyes at getting all this time together, as a family. That's hard to hold. In this holding, this sitting and seeing eyes wide open, the stirring for a more beautiful, true life (can you tell I've been reading Untamed, ha) is growing and building within. Dreaming of a world where the systems come crashing down. Where it doesn't matter what color of skin or gender, or non-gender you are, how much or little wealth you have, all are accepted, loved, cherished, taken care of. Out of that came some writing, a painting of an eyes of love seeing both the warm and cool toned sides, with abundance and not scarcity. We can all sit and contemplate this, create out of it, dream of the change we want to see. Feel ourselves come alive with this hope, give us courage and energy to implement it.
I'm dying to see what comes out of this. The art, the music, the books, the poetry, the ideas, the dances, the food, the moments, the voices, the souls. So please, go get bored. Quit the screen, stop the distractions, watch your kids, allow them to lead, just sit, see what's in there dying to come out. Play around. It's not serious, it's fun. It should feel good, playful, meaningful, fulfilling, joyful. Or it might feel like a release of the hard, the anger, the fear, the dark, the confusion. We were made to create, now is the time.
Comments
Post a Comment