“Boredom 1.0 no longer exists… no one is bored (yet) everything is boring.” — Mark Fisher
I don’t think I can summarize the state of the 21st century mind better than Mark Fisher does in the above quote. We’re flooded with wanting, bombarded by data and detail yet we’ve never felt more apathetic towards things. It’s as if we’re simultaneously complaining that there’s no time for anything yet tormentedly woe when there’s nothing to do, so hungry are we to fill up that time as soon as it arrives. We’ve become, as a species, almost incapable of living in the immediate present; we fail to embrace what we feel in the moment without ever trying to control it.
“The present moment is the richest apex of being.” — Terence McKenna
On top of that, one can say that it’s perhaps never been more confusing to be a man or a woman in contemporary society today. Traditions, despite their flaws in outdated rituals or irrational doctrines, at least provided an approximate blueprint as to how to behave, how to live. Today, we are denied this by our institutionalized culture of money and commoditization — everything has become a buy/sell, win/lose utilitarian transaction. This destroys the immediacy and connection with things, be it materials or other sentient creatures. We have forgotten that we’re all connected in ways we’ve yet to fully understand. But understanding takes time, something our fast-forward culture denies.
“Time is money.” — common everyday proverb
We’re still failing to understand that striving for authenticity is not the same thing as the promotion of selfishness. In fact, individuality has never been more publicly condoned yet everything looks and feels more and more the same; there is nothing original. Whether it be products like housing, clothing and entertainment or even our psychological outlook regarding our anxieties about the world, they all carry that same banal commonality to them. There’s so much stuff, so much self-pursuit, yet we’re still so undoubtably unfulfilled and unforgivingly empty. And this phenomenon plays itself out almost wherever we go, regardless of climate or geography; global markets and technology has assured that this new reality is to be shared by all.
“Under the compulsion of performance and production, there’s no possible freedom. [If] I force myself to produce more, to perform more [and] I optimize myself to the point of death… that’s not freedom.” — Byung Chul Han
Perhaps this plight is even more significant than we typically think, even more so than the global concerns such as climate or energy. A man bored is a frightening thing or so we’re told. But perhaps we’re wrong about this? Just as we’re wrong about isolation and aloneness.
“A man can be himself only so long as he is alone; and if he does not love solitude, he will not love freedom; for it is only when he is alone that he is really free.” — Arthur Schopenhauer
I believe boredom is a gift — albeit an uncommon one — that comes to us just when we need it. Like a vacation, time spent in boredom is freed time to do nothing or more importantly, with nothing to do. Afterall, to vacate means to escape into space, that space between activity or event. In animation, we call spacing timing because it is the space between poses (or action) that gives the animation pace and variation, that gives it movement. In modern life, we’ve forgotten about the importance of that space, that silence that gives perspective and meaning to the actions around it.
For example, a couple of weeks ago, I had to spend some time in the hospital. Sitting in my gown, on the bed waiting, I had nothing to do or could do. I was hooked up to IV (intravenous solution) and didn’t have my phone with me (which was intentional). With the procedure delayed by many hours, I found myself fighting the urge to read, get hold of my smartphone or talk to someone. But knowing the importance of the moment, I let things play out and I could feel the environment engage with me (like when I’m in deep meditation, usually outdoors). My seeing was sharper, as was my hearing. Then, with remarkable clarity, profound and grateful thoughts began to form in my head, like the fact that I lived in a country with excellent free medical care. Everywhere I looked, I can see the immaculate design of medical apparatus and tools that was required in a place such as this, in all its shiny newness and meticilous cleanliness. I saw all the materials in a different light — such as how much design and comtemplation went into the making of each one of those tools and the people who made them and used them — the often under-appreciated medical and medically-associated personal — whose lives revolved around treating and caring for the sick and dying.
“It seems clear that the more we exercise our sensitivity, the stronger it becomes… When it is not exercised, sensitivity tends to weaken.” — Sophie de Grouchy
It’s incredible how boredom can do this — awaken us, that is. It brings forth our empathy and heightens our sensibilities. I personally do not live very often in fear, at least not anymore. But I do fear for us as a people; will we destroy the opportunity to be bored just as we’ve destroyed the many countless peoples and traditions in our seemingly endless quest for power, productivity, profit and progress? If we lose our ability to be alone and bored or even to make time for boredom to happen, we risk losing our humanity and along with it maybe even our ability to imagine and dream.
“The artist works by locating the world in himself.” — Gertrude Stein
