Bad at Boredom
August 14, 2024
Writer: Sydney Holzman
Editor: HY Editors
Those who know me best have always marveled at my motivation to stay constantly busy. They have seen it as an impressive feat, and I have embraced it as such.
Growing up, even a few minutes of alone time would prompt relentless complaints about my boredom. Unfortunately for my parents and the many babysitters I exhausted, I was never one to be entertained watching a show or playing alone. I craved constant activity: playdates, toys, parks, games, recreational sports, and when my parents were especially desperate, circus camp.
As I matured, my desire to stay busy only intensified. This past semester was a whirlwind: twenty-three credit hours, four clubs, fitness instructor training, a part-time job, daily workouts, and a balanced social schedule. My friends, who cherish their downtime, were often horrified by my packed schedule. Their suggestions to sit and relax, decline an outing, or lighten my load went in one ear and out another. I convinced myself they simply didn’t understand.
Despite thinking I was invincible to exhaustion, I reached the end of the semester completely burnt out. I had always managed to power through feelings of being overwhelmed to fulfill all my responsibilities, but this time was different. The early wake-ups, nonstop days, and late nights had finally caught up to me.
I craved something I had been running from for my entire life: boredom.
As the semester ended, I saw an opportunity to embrace this unfamiliar feeling. On my flight home from school, I made a pact with myself: this summer, I would carve out some time to simply be bored.
Committing to boredom, however, proved more difficult than I anticipated. Sitting in silence on the couch quickly turned into answering a call and tidying my shelves. Laying on the beach without a book or phone led to a nap that left me feeling groggy and sunburnt.
After my failed attempts, I realized that boredom didn’t have to mean nothingness. So, I opted to channel my boredom into a solo walk–something I usually reserved for my favorite podcast, my dogs and mom, or catching up with my friends.
I strolled around my neighborhood, leaving my phone, friends, and dogs behind, just allowing myself to be present. During this walk, I began to notice little things: birds chirping while pecking at seeds from my neighbor’s feeder, waves gently breaking against piles of sand, and clouds moving swiftly across the sky. I was amazed at how many details I had been missing by overloading my walks and rushing through my day. These simple observations provided a sense of peace and calm that I hadn’t felt in a long time.
As thoughts of what I could be doing instead flooded my head, I deemed my daily boredom intake complete and made my way back home, subconsciously quickening my pace. When I walked back into my house after what felt like hours, I was shocked to see only 15 minutes had passed.
Since this walk, I have made a habit of setting aside 10, 20, or even 30 minutes a day to indulge in more just like it. Soon enough, my experiment with boredom evolved into less of a challenge and more of a cherished routine. Each walk, each moment of stillness, has allowed me to reconnect with myself and the world around me.
Boredom, I learned, is not a void to be filled but a space to be embraced. Far from being negative or unproductive, it's a luxury that offers clarity, creativity, and a sense of peace often lost in our frantic lives. As I prepare for the upcoming school year, I carry with me a newfound understanding of balance. While I will continue to pursue my passions and responsibilities with the same drive, I now also value moments of serenity. Carving out time this summer to walk alone and welcome boredom has been both challenging and rewarding, teaching me the importance of mindful presence and simple joys. As a trivial busy girl in a world that glorifies busyness, I’ve learned that sometimes, doing nothing is the most productive thing I can do.