I’ll try not to go off on a ‘good ol’ days’, Boomer rant. Because I love the instantaneous accessibility to every bit of information, the myriad of entertainment selections – the ease of our modern day world. But you have to admit, with everything gained, things have been lost too (turns out, you really can’t have it all).
When was the last time you were bored? I mean a time you didn’t quash the feeling by grabbing your phone, or turning on the TV. I’m talking a real, ‘what do I do now?’ quandary? Hey, I’m not preaching here – I can’t remember how long it’s been for me, either.
Well, maybe I do. In the beginning of the pandemic, when we were terrified of being close to people, I started walking. A mile to two miles a day, just to stay sane. You know what I rediscovered? Nature. I walked the same couple of routes, but it never got boring, because things changed as the year passed. Cactus bloomed. The mini-horses got winter coats. The sun slanted at a different angle. I noticed things. Everyday things that I wouldn’t have noticed if my mind was occupied elsewhere.
My husband is a motorcycle fanatic. We spent every vacation and most weekends riding. Back before I got the bug and bought my own bike, I rode pillion. Many, many, many miles. We lived in Southern California. To get just about anywhere from there, you have to go through desert. I know, deserts have their own beauty. But after miles and miles of miles and miles, you get bored. I used to prop a paperback on his back and read. But you can only read for so long.
I was bored.
Funny thing about the human brain; it doesn’t stop thinking when it’s not engaged. It cannot stay bored. When I ran out of song lyrics to remember, and memories to recount, it kept at it. Random thoughts, things I saw, and felt c0alesced. Into a story. The nebulous became concrete. I had a plot for a book! The longer I thought, the more possible it seemed to write it.
You know the rest of the story – as of next April, I’ll have 14 books published, and I’m working on the next. Boredom gave me a second career, and enriched my life in SO many ways. People have told my my writing touched them.
Creativity doesn’t exist in a crazy-busy world. It comes, I believe, from being bored. When you think, what now? What would be fun to do? We keep our kids so busy, with lessons and practice and…
What will happen to art and creativity in the ten generations?
I’d love to hear what you think in the comments!