Working in an office for eight hours a day can be physically tiring. That’s why I love breaks, whether for lunch or between tasks. I love the thought of being with my workmates, conversing about whatever pleases our ears. But I guess reality says otherwise.
One Tuesday morning, I was on my way to work, full of anticipation. “Maybe this day will be different,” I whispered to my heart. I am not worried about my work, you see: For me, reports and percentages are but dust in the wind. I am worried about what matters eternally — relationships.
It was time for lunch. I walked out of the office with my manager and two co-workers. All of us are a bit indecisive at this time of day. We have difficulty choosing where to go to dine. But still, this is a worthwhile challenge for me, because I learn about their preferences and stories about food. With their choices, I unravel a part of who they are, which remains a precious memory in me.
After considering a long list of possibilities, we chose a Chinese restaurant. We sat at a rectangular table. It was an intimate space, with just enough room for us and the food, but we could hear each other’s hungry voices. We ordered the famous fried noodles, Hong Kong-style chicken, dim sum and braised beef. And here came my worry — the waiting game.
In this group, I am the only introvert. I go the extra mile every time I speak my mind or initiate a topic. On this day, I had this whole thing in my head, but nothing came out of my mouth. I wanted to share my mundane moments, how I missed my stop on my way to work. I wanted to confide my deepest thoughts, how I think about eternity or love. I wanted simply to tell them about my favorite things, from cheesecakes and sashimi to K-pop and Little Prince. But I was too afraid that I might either sound boring or like a resounding gong.
At first, I heard their giggles, as one of us narrated a fun story. Then, one after the other, they went silent. Instinctively, they searched for their phones in their bags, retrieved them and scrolled down on the news feed. I looked at their phones as if to prove to my workmates that I am way better than their devices or feeds. I felt I lost an unfought war. I sat there, frustrated.
Can I blame them if waiting makes them feel bored? Can I argue that entertaining themselves is wrong when I cannot even initiate a conversation most of the time? We have different principles and expectations; can we really say who’s mistaken here?
I won’t. But I realized a few things after that lunch. I am raised to battle against boredom and so are you. As children, we are given colorful toys to play with. Or books filled with stimulating pictures to capture our imaginations. Crayons and clays are also waiting for our little hands to unlock our creativity.
At school, we enjoy breaks by playing or chatting with friends. We think we have outgrown this dilemma by the time we become adults, but reality would tell us otherwise. Instead, we submit to our ingrained habits of doing something, anything, because staying occupied is an unspoken rule. It is as if there is darkness in staying still and being bored.
Following that uncomfortable lunch, after a long hard day at work, I sat on my bed and waited for the night to arrive before going to sleep. But another waiting game challenged me. Automatically, I reached for my phone at the corner of my bedside table.
As soon as I realized what I was doing, I asked myself, “Will you also be like this?” Determined not to succumb to the fear of doing nothing, I embraced my pillow and resisted any temptation to run away from this moment, from this boredom.
This boredom took me to a light that knows no bounds.
I asked myself, Are you afraid of boredom? If not, why do you resist idle time by scrolling down on your phone while waiting in a queue? Why do you try to amuse yourself with social media when conversations fade at the dinner table? Why do you escape exhaustion or anxiety with gaming after a long and difficult day?
I was taught to kill boredom because the world thinks it makes a person timid, unsuccessful and meaningless. I have learned to run tirelessly all year round to become a more mature adult with enough earnings, possessions, family and friends.
As I waited for the night, I scribbled down my thoughts about my fear of boredom. I faced it head-on. No denial. No excuses. No turning back.
WHAT I LEARNED ABOUT THE FEAR OF BOREDOM
You lose sight of the beauty of rest
Rest is becoming rare because people think that they should earn it. It is the Maker’s design for mankind, and it is a gift.
You lose sight of purpose
You fill your schedule with major activities and still do something minor with your downtime. You have been brainwashed to believe that your purpose is solely in what you do at that moment.
You lose sight of the harmony in relationships
The silence between meals and trips can still be quality time among family or friends. This gap is precious for growth and maturity, taking its course to bloom and deepen its roots.
AN INVITATION TO EMBRACE BOREDOM
I invite you to stop running now. You are meant for more than that. Start with not being afraid of boredom. When you feel the urge to fill leisure time or a space in your calendar, take a deep breath and turn your back on the world. Befriend boredom and play with it instead. Continue to pay attention because, when you are too comfortable with idleness, you may fall into being a sloth. But, with the right balance, you will experience that, in boredom, you can find freedom.
Boredom creates the illusion of slowing down every second of your life. You are being ushered into space where memories – of joy and pain – flash before your eyes. Some people escape because of an unresolved past. But here, you can look back and discover more about yourself. You can face your regrets and unsettled emotions and bid them farewell. It may take time, but this is the way to freedom.
There is nothing wrong with pursuing maturity or sustainability. Understanding yourself, however, is also part of the plan. Understanding your authentic self – your true self – will add significance to everything you do. When you greet the dawn, before anything else happens in the day, your true self awaits. Knowing who you are will give you fresh energy and hope, which will keep you moving forward.
These realizations touched me to the depths of my heart, where I have been imprisoned with pride, insecurity and self-doubt. It led me to a greater discovery of myself, of life and beyond. To know this piece of wisdom was liberating.
I invite you to also embrace boredom and let silence bring out the best version of yourself.