During the busiest season of my life, that of being a dad, I often heard the phrase, “I’m bored.” To which I would always respond, “Only boring people are bored.” It was an oft-repeated phrase. Stimulus and response.
I grew up in a gloriously unsophisticated way, with very little regard for my boredom level. In fact, there was very little thought of me at all. Not in the sense that my parents didn’t think of me or feed and care for me, but in the sense of, “I wonder if Brian is doing ok. I wonder if he is getting enough intellectual stimulation.” I always had something to do, and I was usually busy doing it. But for the times that my brother determined the activity, beat up on Brian time, I found my own ways to occupy my time.
Some ordinary activities I would resort to included building stuff with Legos, drawing, reading Peanuts books, reading books by the chess masters of the time (for real, I was a weird kid), playing in the yard, or any of the above with friends. It was very similar to a Charlie Brown existence, where it was primarily kid-focused, with faceless adults droning on in the background, with all due respect to those adults.
So, when my kids told me they were bored, all these memories flooded my brain, and I was instantly transported to the grab bag of things to do I often used. We encouraged imaginative play and crafts, and my children enjoyed them from time to time. Living on the farm, we raised “free range” kids who could go out and play the same way I would have as a child. Then adolescence hits, and my kids grew up with electronics, game consoles, and cell phones. They were slowly being conditioned to need these devices to pass the time.
Cell phone use evolved into social media use, and then it was goodbye to imaginative play and hello to the doom loop. The curious occupation of scrolling through friends’ photos, chatting, and watching videos was fun at first. Dopamine (the feel-good chemical) was released with each post, like, comment, or new follower. This is enjoyable, I thought. I love hearing my kids laugh. Instead of gathering at one house in the neighborhood where all the bikes ended up on the lawn, like when I was a kid, they were doing it virtually. Harmless.
I read a book about teens’ use of social media and how best to monitor it. One suggestion is to create a rule that they can be on certain agreed-upon outlets, and they must accept you as a “friend” or contact. This way, you can keep an eye on things.
So, I initially started using social media out of concern for my children’s welfare. Soon, I was chortling to myself, watching silly videos. I connected with old friends and engaged with new ones. Each new notification prompted me to open the app and check who liked what, which led to minutes or hours of unintended scrolling. I laughed, I cried, I went through the full gamut of emotions, and when I put the phone down, I felt nothing.
The sensory input from an hour of social media far eclipses what our ancestors would have received in months or even a year. Our oldest ancestors lived in tribes or packs of fewer than 50 people. Now we are connected to the world. There is a consequence of this unimaginable jump, and my concern is that it may be irreversible. Rates of depression, loneliness, and emptiness have skyrocketed in recent decades. People are more connected than ever, yet feel more alone than ever before. Back at the cave, we would gather around the fire and tell stories or exchange grunts before language, but we belonged to this group. There was no loneliness epidemic, nor was there a boredom epidemic.
I started with the intention of writing about boredom and how wonderful it can be. Think of it as a way to reset the brain, give it some downtime, and control-alt-delete for resetting the mind. I am only recently exploring the benefits of boredom. And when I say boredom, I mean a slower pace, with no external inputs at all. No podcasts, no music, no media of any kind. It is hard at first, just like working out, but over time, you will begin to rediscover your own thoughts.
Being alone with our thoughts has become so out of the mainstream as to be avoided at all costs. In a recent study, psychologists put subjects in a room for a few minutes with nothing to do, but an option to give themselves a painful shock. Two-thirds of men and a quarter of women chose to shock themselves rather than sit alone with their thoughts. One participant chose the shock 190 times in a quarter of an hour. Does that seem crazy to you?
Recently, I had about six weeks to be alone with my thoughts, with no additional input except the steps beneath my feet and the birds in the trees. This was eye-opening and youth-enhancing. I felt the joy I felt as a young boy with nothing to do and all day to do it.
Before my trip, I deleted all unnecessary apps and deleted all social media from my phone. I turned off all notifications but for a handful. Since my return, I have done nothing to change this, and I can honestly tell you, I have never felt better. I have a sense of peace today that truly takes me back to my childhood. Instead of being Charlie Brown and being eye level with the droning adults, I have become one, but I am trying to drone less.
If possible, encourage yourself to be bored from time to time. Create a habit, set a timer, turn off all distractions, and spend some time in quiet with your own thoughts. Don’t shock yourself, just think. If you can’t think or can’t stop overthinking, close your eyes (don’t do this while driving) and focus on your breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth with slightly pursed lips, as blowing through a small straw. You can thank me later, and when you do, it will have to be in person as I’m off social media.