The Cure for Boredom is Ice Cream

"Everyone is a bore to someone. That is unimportant. The thing to avoid is being a bore to oneself." Gerald Brenan

I hate it when the dog days of summer are here, and it’s only May. That’s another way of saying, “I’m bored.” 

Usually I’m not bored. Life is good and there is plenty to do, but every so often my brain and body go on strike; production ceases; living color takes on faded, dreary, sepic tones; chewing gum takes on the texture and flavor of synthetic rubber that’s been masticated all day long.

I have to be careful. I learned at an early age never to let my parents know I was bored. If my demeanor ever looked like it was going to wilt or turn listless, my mother could immediately find a thousand and one alternatives to address a state of boredom. As vapid as I might feel, it was critical to feign a case of hyperactive-kinetic-ADHD and go melt into nothingness someplace else far away and out of sight. 

It’s not that I was lazy, but Mom’s go-to-solution in the war on childhood lethargy was to either have them weed the flowerbeds or mow the lawn. Our lawn mower was people powered – it had no gasoline engine or electric motor. It was a reel mower that hadn’t been oiled since the days of Moby Dick, with blades so dull they would only beat grass into submission, rather than actually cutting the wiry agropyron that tried to pass for grass. We’d have been better off raising sheep or goats (although cleaning up after them would have been less pleasant than pushing our mechanical lawn muncher).

As for the weeds, they were the only thing in the flowerbeds that could be classified as flora anyway, so why pull them? Everything else was just sand and rocks, and the weeds’ roots clung to the boulders so tightly that pulling them would have eroded the lot upon which our house sat to such a degree that if I’d pulled all the weeds as requested, we’d have ended up homeless!

Fortunately, bouts of boredom were pretty unusual. My siblings and I grew up in a neighborhood with a fair number of kids our age, so we managed to find a variety of things to do to keep ourselves occupied. If they weren’t around, my brother and I would either hop on our bikes or catch the cross-town bus and hang out at Greenlake to the east or Golden Gardens to the west. Either option took a fair amount of peddling and effort, and the rewards upon arriving were delightful, what with ice cream cones for a dime, or shaved ice with fruity-flavored syrup for a nickel.

Boredom is a state of mind, really. I don’t mind relaxing, and for the most part I would describe my quiet periods as times of contentment more than boredom. I like keeping busy, being creative, and yes, I don’t kick or scream too badly when there is a little yardwork to be done (underscoring the word “little”). There is satisfaction to be had in tackling a task or two, finishing them, and then finding something fun and rewarding to do in celebration. Ice cream still hits the spot!

One of the challenges of adulting is having and taking responsibility for one’s own decisions and choices. When I’m bored, it is seldom because I have nothing to do, but because I’ve let go of other things that are important – creative things like prayer, meditation, connecting in meaningful ways with others, or exploring the world and my place in it. God created us to be human beings, rather than human doings, but that doesn’t mean it's ok to be do-nothings. We need to stay connected, and we need to be connected, and that takes being actively present.

I suspect Jesus was never bored. My guess is that whenever we see him jump up and tell the disciples they need to get moving, it wasn’t boredom that motivated him (or getting away from Momma Mary), but curiosity. “I wonder what God is doing over there,” could easily have been his guiding light. Perhaps it could be ours as well here in this, our valley. Now, fold up your newspaper and go have some ice cream!

Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available through Amazon in Print and e-book)

Reflections on the beauty of weeds and smiles

"[I]nspiration does not come like a bolt, nor is it kinetic, energetic striving, but it comes to us slowly and quietly, and all the time …." Brenda Ueland

A couple were walking down the street. As they strolled past a house, one said, “Boy, those flowers are sure pretty.” The other replied, “The beds need weeding.”

One sees beauty. The other sees weeds. One sees what is. The other sees what needs to be done. One enjoys the moment. The other frets over a mental to-do list. One appreciates the neighbor’s taste in flowers and design. The other judges them for the eyesore and some apparent laziness.

Now, I must confess that this story is made up, but it is also true. And the couple? That’s me. Those are the kinds of conversations going on all the time within that squirrel cage that is occasionally referred to as my mind. I’m a “both/and” kind of guy. I make every effort to be a positive, edifying, energizing individual, looking for beauty, and appreciating everything that surrounds me. But beneath that friendly, smiling exterior lies the heart of a scowling, judgmental curmudgeon (not that there’s anything wrong with that).

Most of the time the kind, gentle soul is the dominant person pacing about the house, traipsing through the neighborhood, driving down the boulevard. But there are times when Monsieur Jerk du Jour shoves his way to the front of the queue and has his say. Those discordant notes are like nails on a chalkboard; I’m usually able to send him back to the basement. What I find, though, is that while I’m striving to make nice outside, he’s downstairs working out, and getting stronger – or at least trying to.

Strength is dependent on diet and exercise.  I’ve found over the years that if I feed the beast in the basement, it gains strength. If I feed the angel that flits above, it grows lighter, brighter, and happier. One drives me to despair, the other to hope. One sends my gut to churning like the Bering Sea beneath an Arctic storm, the other to a peaceful calm of a Buddha under the spell of a tryptophan-induced coma. 

The Dalai Lama and Archbishop Desmond Tutu were engaged in a conversation a few years back, and each acknowledged the power of a smile to affect positive change in the world around them. When we walk past someone and smile, they most often will smile in return, and often it will be subconscious. They won’t even know they’re doing it. But they smile. Our smiles often trigger a response, a release of brain chemicals related to pleasures, and it’s that immediate release of dopamine or oxytocin that makes people feel good. 

One may not always feel like smiling, obviously. There is a lot wrong with the world, and yet there is also a lot right with the world. There’s a lot that’s good, true, wholesome, and beautiful. What we see is generally what we choose to look at. Philosophers may argue whether a glass is half full or half empty, but I look and see: the glass isn’t half of anything; it’s full, containing both fluids and air!

I do not believe for a moment that a smile will end war overseas or stop a virus in its tracks, but if a smile or small act of kindness helps lighten the load for one’s fellow travelers, isn’t it worth the effort? One may not feel like smiling, and yet sometimes the effort will create its own reward. As is often said in Twelve Step groups, sometimes we just have to fake it ‘til we make it. 

What I find helpful in keeping the beast in the basement under lock and key is getting out of my “self” and into caring for others. As the late archbishop, Desmond Tutu, says, “I mean simply to say that ultimately our greatest joy is when we seek to do good for others” (The Book of Joy, p. 59). 

Being kind feeds the angel; being selfish feeds the devil. I choose to feed the angel every chance I get in this, our happy valley. May God help us to see the beauty of the flowers, and acknowledge that even the bees make use of what the weeds provide!

Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available through Amazon in Print and e-book)