The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 27

Getting Better at Doing Less: A Quarantine Resolution

I can't even fathom what boredom is. The last time I was bored was in 1977. I made the mistake of telling my mom that I was bored. "Boring people are bored." I think she said that. Or, at least, it's her voice in my head. Regardless, her solution was that I should clean the bathroom. After that fatal mistake, I never used the word "bored" again. In high school, I found it fascinating that the German verb for "bored" is reflexive. In the German language, you cannot "be bored." Instead, you "bore yourself" or "something bores you." But you can't just simply be bored without owning cause and ownership.

And yet--the New York Times says that children need to be bored. Huffpo says that children thrive when they are faced with boredom. In fact, every parenting advice columnist out there says that boredom is a good thing.

I've always had a tremendously full plate, by design. I worked several jobs in college while taking full class loads. I waited tables on the weekends when I started teaching. I raised two kids while working full-time. I got my doctorate while working full time and raising two kids. Every year, I added more onto my plate. Clearly, I like to take on too much at any given time. I don't know how to sit down. I can't watch tv without doing something else (the mending? my nails? yoga? 3 different text conversations?) at the same time. When I run, I also listen to music and write lesson plans in my head at the same time. When I cook, I watch Hallmark movies. When I drive in the car, I listen to a book.

I never stop moving, thinking, writing. There is always a list of things to do. A checklist of tasks.

Photo by Glenn Carstens-Peters on Unsplash

Today, as I was out walking, I was listening to Charles Duhigg's podcast How To. Specifically, the episode "How to Not Go Crazy Under Quarantine." In the episode, Duhigg interviews Celeste Headlee, author of Do Nothing: How to Break Away from Overworking, Overdoing, and Underliving to find out how to get better at doing less, thereby living a fuller life. 

Headlee suggests that we have to learn to sit in silence. That we allow ourselves to be bored. That we learn to single-task. That we listen to music for the sake of listening to music. The last time I listened to music just for the sake of listening was because I was making a mix-tape for my boyfriend in 1986 and I had to press record just at the sweet spot when the radio announcer stopped talking and before the singer started singing.

Headlee suggests that we take up a hobby. Like knitting or stamp-collecting. That we find quiet pursuits and learn how to pursue them. That we call our friends. That we give ourselves a break.

But even in this forced quarantine, I have 875 things on my list of things to do. Boxes to unpack from the great remodel of 2018. Pounds to lose from the great ankle breakage of 2019. Journal articles to edit. Novels to write. Dishes to do. Laundry to put away. Books to read. Songs to learn. Lesson plans to write. Parents to call. Miles to run.

I'm not sure I know how to be bored or to let myself be bored. I'm not sure I would recognize it if I was. There is always so much to do. And I am a bit embarrassed to say that I am thankful for this extra time, so that I can slow down just a little bit, and not beat myself up too much for how long the to-do list is and how little I manage to accomplish every day.

This quarantine is a gift of time. I just hope that I can get everything done in time so that I can find the time to be bored, and maybe get a little bit better at doing less.

I'll add that to my to-do list.