musings of a melancholic: boredom

Showing posts with label boredom. Show all posts

I realize this is going to sound contradictory to my previous post about letting oneself get bored as good self-care, but I have to tell you.

This week I've been

b.o.r.e.d.

(and not in a good way).

The kind of boredom that sits on the corner of your eyes and tells you that everything, everywhere is uninspired and no one, nowhere is doing anything special and all life, all kinds are moving only sluggishly along their mundane tasks.

There's a kind of aching in my bones, a something stirring

born of fire and blood

and yet something else holding it all back.

I can't help but feel that is ME getting in the way of it. If I could just step aside and let things take their course. This is what happens to me when someone tells me NOT to obsess...to be carefree and run wild.

I can do anything BUT obsess, be worried, and tie stone weights to my feet.

It's quite confusing.

One minute I want to run naked through the streets, do something drastic to break this dam,

and in the next breath I loose my willpower to do anything but watch 10 hours of stupid television.

I was born for something more.

I've certainly had my fill of solitude this week. Joel had to work every night this week, and while I was originally really looking forward to it and used that time wisely and soulfully, by Wednesday night - I was going mad. I realize several of my lovely friends are without their husbands this week, or even month, or even summer. My hat goes off to you!

When he was home, we were both exhausted emotionally (me from my brain and he from other people's brains) that there was little else to do but fall into bed.

You know how most people (correction: I assume this is how most people operate) would stop in a moment of madness and exclaim to themselves, "I need to call a friend!" Or perhaps, "I need to get the hell out of here and do something with someone!" I am really challenged in this area because I get so greedy with solitude so much so that even if it is plaguing and branding my soul, I remain stubbornly determined to be alone. I needed anything but being alone, but it wasn't until late Wednesday night that I recognized it and promptly invited myself over to Jess's. My self is being all kinds of weird to myself lately.

I'm just gonna roll with it.

I tell you what. I am going to grill up a nice béarnaise-covered filet mignon, open a bottle of spicy Italian wine, and spoil that man for working so hard. That will help us both.

Separate feels strained. Time to bring those ties back to home.

Bring love back to you this weekend,

Joel and I joined his parents this last weekend in Greenwater, Washington, located in the foothills of Mt. Rainier. We did exactly a lot of nothing. Well, Joel climbed two trees and threw several large sticks for our family dog, Abbey. However, my particular kind of nothing meant reading, staring at the fire, taking naps, sunbathing, playing boggle, sipping various beverages, meandering pleasantries with the parents, and allowing that angst-y boredom to sit on my bones and soak deep into the soil of my soul. It turns out that boredom, if indulged, can actually feel a lot like peace; however, the conversion requires intense mental discipline and I am practicing and practicing. Just like anxiety and excitement.

(Sidenote: My therapist recently mention that anxiety and excitement feel the same in the body. Apparently, I've been very excited for the last 10 years. Sigh. Anxiety in my being is as familiar to me as my husband is. I see it, I breath through it, I recognize it, and yet it persists. I'm beginning to get accustomed to its presence as a part of my DNA and consequently have stopped letting it have so much attention.)

Drinking with Plath during the magic hour

Why do we fear boredom? Why do we feel the compulsion to constantly fill the rooms of our houses with background noise? Why are so many of our hobbies and activities escapist in nature? I can't help but feel that we must be running from something - even from the nagging fear that maybe we are more shallow than we think...or that if we stop to examine the hard parts too much, they will take over and we will be sad. How interesting it is to know a person by how they spend their leisure time. I have no express point here, and certainly don't intend to sound judge-y, but I am reflecting on the goodness of boredom and how few people I know are genuinely adept at soulful-rest. Everyone I know values hard work and is exhilarated by the "go-go-go" of daily life, but a tragic few feel equally motivated to rest (I am not talking about mindless rest such as sleep or various forms of entertainment and technologies - though of course they have their merit). I therefore fully believe weekends such as these are vastly more soul-satisfying than I realize. Even within our marriage we have noticed that intentionally pursuing individual time to day-dream has been so good for us both. I happen to have a lifestyle where planning that time is easier for me than for others, but as our pursuit of a family begins to birth itself in our brains, I want nothing more than to master this discipline BEFORE it becomes challenged by children. Nothing like setting up ridiculous expectations for a family, right? I am certain they will be dashed - and that my life will morph into something unrecognizable to me now, but I wouldn't be me if I didn't idealize on some regard. Either way, I want to prioritize these mind-vacations.