In praise of boredom

If you think about it, you’ll see that most things we do in the modern world are simply boredom escape mechanisms.

Self-development. Working out. News. Daily routines. To-do lists. Chores. Digital nomadism. Minimalism. Meditation techniques. Self-help articles. Therapy. Drugs. Reading 52 books in a year. Alcohol. Writing 12 books in a year. Buying bitcoin. Selling bitcoin. NFTs.

Don’t even get me started on the amount of content there’s to help you escape — albeit, temporarily — from staring into the infinite abyss of time. (More than you’ll ever be able to consume.)

Nobody really needs this stuff. Yet we do this stuff because we’re bored. We need something to fill the gaping hole in our lives and so we come up with things to do. That’s how the human brain works: it can’t stand boredom.

I have a friend — he calls himself a “digital nomad” — who just can’t sit still. After moving to Georgia for a year, he became bored with it, so he moved to Paraguay to sip Pina Coladas and learn how to surf. Then he got bored and moved back to Europe. Recently, he’s been telling me — quite hilariously — that “there’s nothing good on this continent anymore” and plans to move back to Latin America in a few months. I’m willing to bet he’ll be coming back soon.

Sure, escaping boredom by juggling jobs, partners, places they live, communities, values, beliefs, can work. But only temporarily. Because as you settle, you still won’t feel satisfied, like a drug addict needing yet another fix.