Every so often somebody asks me if I’m ever bored. The context is usually my retirement at fifty, and the questioner may be contemplating their own retirement and be worried about how to fill their days. I have a few stock answers, all starting with the word no. Usually I expand on my feeling that there is always a wide choice of things to do, most of us can find some that work for us, and the removal of the need for remuneration actually opens up possibilities. Especially now, I am so happy with the decision I made to retire early.
But this weekend a strange thing happened. A good friend asked me the standard question, probably not for the first time, but perhaps indicating a change in his own mental state. I found myself pausing before answering. Because for the previous two weeks, since getting back to NYC from Europe, I had been bored as hell.
I spent a while pondering possible causes and found several. If I am strictly honest with myself, I have often been bored during the New York summer. The heat and humidity are horrible so being outside is not a good option and inside there is the constant battle with air conditioning machines, trading off feeling hot and being bothered by noise. Neither heat nor noise help with reading or watching TV, and this year the Mets are playing losing baseball to boot. There are few choir evenings, yet my wife still has to go to work. And July has only just started so there are many weeks of potential boredom ahead. I can swim, sharing the pool with. Thousand kids as usual in summer, but tennis feels too risky even on days that are free of humidity. I could not find a single Broadway show that interested me last Wednesday either.
Then I found myself contrasting the inactivity of being back in New York with the delight of the previous weeks in Europe, with never a dull moment and much to celebrate. It did not help that last week was an oral chemotherapy week, and that often leads to nausea, loss of appetite and fatigue towards its end, certainly bearable but hardly a balm against boredom. Now I have the additional issue of occasional dizziness to cope with too. I am tired so lie in bed but that state can bring on the dizziness, so I get back up, and then what?
Then there is the weird paradox of my time horizon. If you think you only have six months to live, there is not much time to be bored. That may still be the case, but now we are also considering much longer survival scenarios. Should I start some new hobbies or projects? If I will be alive but diminished, will boredom become much more of a pervasive risk?
One great relief is that no loneliness has accompanied the boredom. In my experience, loneliness is the root cause of many unwelcome emotions. I am so lucky to have a loving life partner and supportive family and friends, who will help me through any tougher moments. In Europe I was rarely apart from my wife, while back here we have been forced to settle back to the regular routine of her office days, but that is truly no real hardship. Facing up to chronic sickness alone must be so much harder. It is no surprise that long-wed couples tend to die within a few months of each other.
Anyway, I am pleased to relate that my boredom has lifted for now, and not just because the humidity is taking a rest and the nausea from treatment week has gone too. My salvation was the weekend.
That started on Saturday, when we spent a delightful few hours chatting at the home of good friends (and I’ll forgive and even thank them for quizzing me about boredom). I had a nap in the afternoon before cantoring mass at our local church as usual. On Sunday we went to mass at the church where I usually sing and were delighted by the music and the atmosphere there. After a dim sum lunch and another nap, we went to help serve supper at the old folks’ home where we volunteer, our first visit in two months.
Having spent some time pondering where the negative feeling of boredom came from, I spent further time wondering how my spirits could be so lifted by a simple weekend. Part of the answer comes from the word we, in that all our weekend was spent together as a couple. I can expand that we to include the friends and communities we spent time with.
I had forgotten how important these simple routine weekends are to me, and how the liturgy often plays a beneficial role. I here the readings twice, listen to two contrasting homilies and participate in two sets of music choices, and often we even end up talking about the messages while at the home. For all the harm done by religion and religious leaders, there is much comfort to be drawn from these simple and wise messages.
The gospel this week was summarised within the offertory hymn I sung on Saturday evening. It had a feel more of a song than a hymn, with an octave leap in the second measure and beautiful legato lines. I enjoyed singing it very much.
Come to me, all who labour and are heavy burdened, and I will give you rest.
Take up your yoke and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart.
And you’ll find rest for your souls. Yes, my yoke is easy and my burden is light.
When we think of heavy burdened people, we naturally consider folk like miners or women carrying water on their heads in Africa. But burdens come in many forms, often without a physical component. Somebody caring for an aging parent is burdened, as may be somebody struggling with loneliness or disease or fear. As a goal to mitigate this, rest could refer to a long nap or a summer vacation, but more powerful is a soul at rest, a soul at peace. That soul is usually not lonely and rarely bored, and has probably helped itself through service to others. Considered this way, it is also easier to appreciate the power of prayer.
Early in my cancer experience, I tried to come up with a model to describe a progression of emotions. Reject anger and bitterness, embrace sadness and grief and fear, and utilise thankfulness to move towards acceptance and eventually peace. I have found the model extremely helpful, and the liturgy of this week seems to underscore it too, following my rough patch of last week.
How can loneliness, boredom and rest be incorporated into the model? I think I will twin companionship with thankfulness, and rest with peace. Companionship is the antidote to loneliness and boredom. Companionship can involve sacrifice and compromise, but its benefits can make all the difference. For some the companionship can be with divine concepts, but fellow humans are perhaps more readily to hand. Unlike thankfulness, you can’t simply create companionship in your mind; instead you have to work on it, and ideally not wait until a crisis strikes. We all have ample potential to offer companionship as a gift to others, and that gift is one that rebounds to our own benefit.
I am truly blessed to have plentiful companionship in my life, and that gives me confidence that any boredom will be limited to its usual seasonal moments.
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