Narratives
“Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?” -Charles Bukowski
A guest that you will have to invite into your house when spending long hours at home is boredom. It may not come over often, or stay very long, but I have found that no matter my attitude or my intention, boredom inevitably stops by for a visit. The initial urge is to entertain this sensation, to fight the inactivity of boredom with any activity that will send it away. And this will work, for a time. After that ignoring boredom seems like a good option. Moving on to whatever you can do in hopes that you will forget about it and it will leave on its own. And yet, having faced boredom on numerous occasions during my time at home, I have found that welcoming it in has the most to offer. There is an invitation that can be heard when one is bored.
The busyness and hurry outside the home impose many hidden demands. These demands can be disguised as fears or as anxieties, but what is often being exerted is a series of narratives trying to claim who you are. Father. Mother. Sister. Brother. Son. Daughter. Husband. Wife. Friend. Accountant. Doctor. Pastor. Teacher. Salesperson. Manager. Engineer. Chef. Musician. Celebrity. Janitor. Consumer. Client. Customer. The onslaught can be exhausting. What happens at home, though, is these assertions relax their grip and the narratives of who you are begin to quiet down. This can be a bit upsetting, for you take pride in the work you do in the world and your role in others’ life (as you should). It can also be a bit freeing. Taking time to set aside the responsibilities that come with these titles is necessary to do them well. But boredom at home allows you to wade out further into the place void of narratives and sink deeper into something new below the surface.
Boredom is the gift of silencing the story you are repeatedly told (or are telling yourself) in order to hear a story you haven’t heard before (or heard in awhile). You are not just the titles and relationships that you have accumulated, you are much more. You are not the sum of your beliefs and opinions and demographics, you are beyond these. You are not a biography. This is the marvelous thing about children. They don’t have any positions or any degrees, but are filled with a contagious wonder for what is possible. More importantly, they also seem to not care what degrees or positions you hold -- they already hold you with wonder just because you are. My son and daughter believe that operating a garbage truck is one of the most exciting jobs available and that the people who deliver items to our home are our friends. Status is foreign to them, and so everyone is their friend. In the past when I’ve sunk into the boredom that shows up on any given day I encounter this me that existed long ago. A me that feels most like me, because it easily sees the we between you and me.
May you learn to cherish boredom as you cherish excitement. May you not succumb to believing that you are who other people say you are, nor are you who you say you are. May you discover the wonderment of your being. And may you, my friend, see as the child does.