Once upon a time, there was a minute.
It was not a very important minute. Nobody saluted it. No anthem played. It just arrived like a stray dog and sat by your shoe.
People used to pet that minute. They called it “waiting.” They let it nap. Sometimes it woke up as a doodle, or a daydream, or a phone call to a person who needed one. Sometimes it just snored. Fine by me. Snoring minutes never hurt anybody.
Then we got clever. We built bright little slot machines and told the minutes to get jobs. “No more napping,” we said. “Earn your keep.” The minutes all put on uniforms with tiny lightning bolts. They now deliver packages of jokes and rage to our skulls. They are very industrious. Good for them. Bad for us.
Do you remember boredom? It used to be basic training in being a person. The drill is simple: you stand there with nothing happening and you don’t explode. You learn to make a small fire with damp twigs. Attention, memory, patience. The badge you earn? “Can be left alone without supervision.” Civilization needs a lot of people with that badge. The rest of us will set the curtains on fire just to see some action.
Boredom is also the cheapest museum. If you stare at anything long enough (your hand, a ceiling stain, a neighbor) you will start to see the exhibits. Veins, histories, poor choices, plans. The price of admission is a few unoccupied minutes. A bargain.
The trouble is we declared war on the museum. We paved the galleries. We installed moving sidewalks and put a snack bar every ten feet. We made sure nobody would ever have to stand still and notice the priceless stuff: a thought forming(!), a feeling finishing, I think the oven is still on at home. Oops!
We did this because we were frightened (and bored?). Boredom is not dangerous, but it is honest. It is the part of the day when the mask fogs up and you can see your own face behind it. Your face might be tired. Your face might be lonely. Your face might want to change its life. Terrible news! It's much easier to watch a video of a raccoon washing cotton candy in a puddle. The raccoon is also frightened, and very clean.
Now, I do not suggest you smash your phone with a hammer and move to a monastery where the wifi is weak and the soup is strong. I like soup, but I also like Google maps and pictures of monkeys. I am not a hypocrite; I am a citizen. Citizens negotiate with their inventions. Here is the negotiation I propose:
Keep a pocket minute. One per hour. When the machine offers a treat, decline politely. Say, “Thank you, but I'm saving this for something slow.” You won’t know what it’s for. That's the point! Let a minute nap in your pocket until it tells you.
Hold a daily staring contest with an inanimate object. A spoon is good. A bus stop is fine. Stare until the thing confesses it blinked 3 minutes ago. Congratulations, you win!
Write a tiny letter to nobody. Three sentences. One fact, one complaint, one hope. Fold an origami swan and stuff it in a drawer. Someday you will meet yourself rifling the drawer, and you will both be amused to find you are still human.
If you must be “productive,” then be a cheapskate about it. Do the task without entertainment. Washing dishes is a real hoot if you let the hot water talk. The plates have dirty little secrets. Some of them have had adventures you would not approve of.
You may protest. Isn't boredom a waste? Yes! Like sleeping, studying, and childhood. It wastes time by composting it into something that grows later. You will not see the sprouts on your schedule. Sprouts are shy.
If this sounds sentimental, it is because I am sentimental. I have encountered a lot of machines. They are faster than us and prettier than us, and they do not get bored. We should not try to win at their game. Our trick, the only one that works as far as I can tell, is to sit in a chair long enough to feel a little foolish and then do something spectacular anyway. Boredom is that chair.
And if you are truly allergic to the word, call it by its old name. Waiting. All good things keep you waiting a little. Sourdough. Letters. Santa Claus? Forgiveness. The minute at your shoe!
Pet it. Let it sleep. See what wakes up.