
I want to talk about the virtues of boredom—or what to do while waiting at the dentist’s office for my husband’s teeth cleaning. I do keep mentioning that I want to complete the Pawn Quest trilogy—and I’ve set a deadline to finish the first draft by the end of the year. I brought some notes to work on during my wait, but mostly I let my mind play.
One epiphany struck me—that my timing was off. The event I thought was looming, wasn’t—at least not in the next three chapters. And with that, the shape of two chapters came into view—along with their titles. Whoopee!
Of course, they still have to be written.
How to produce boredom
Leave your normal haunts (and distractions) behind. Dentist offices don’t come every week. Get stuck somewhere. Take a walk. Mop a floor. Lie in bed putting off rising while watching your thoughts flow.
I had the strangest experience this morning. I saw myself arriving in Texas with my first husband (lo, those many years ago). It was a few days after our marriage.I had this internal view of the person I was then: tightly bound nerves, holding in all the uncertainties and fears of a new place. Not an attractive sight.
And then following almost immediately, another picture of me 22 years later, with the man who would become my second husband. We were taking our first out-of-town trip, driving to Great Sand Dunes National Park in Colorado. The radio was off and I was singing, relaxed and with complete faith in the rightness of this new adventure.
Growth. Maturity. There are no short-cuts. I had to live through those intervening years to arrive at the person I was 22 years later. The stages of Life. And no, I can’t call any of those stages boring.
Play
Alan Alda advises playing at what we’re most serious about. I need more practice. My serious intent is constant. I think about the “book” every day. I need to learn to relax my “serious” muscle so my mind can receive new ideas.
Boredom is not my real goal; the goal is to cut out distractions, by which inspiration eludes me.
Any ideas?