journey

boredom is a blessing!

coming back from a hike with my sister on a recent family trip in shropshire

I was talking with a friend earlier about having a childlike experience of the bible, how one would achieve it. And so of course I reminisced upon my own childhood and some thoughts came to mind.

There is no one else on this planet that has the same lived experience of my childhood. Because it’s MY childhood.

Not even my sister.

One might attribute that to the 3 years and 9 months between us, or the fact she is female, or due to how she may have been parented differently after they got all the mistakes out of the way on me, or maybe being exposed to technology and social media at a younger age, and so on and so forth.

But even if all these differences were eradicated, my point would still stand. Even if we were twins of the same gender emerging from our mother at somehow the exact same time so as to not have any sort of psychological edge over the other in this regard. Even if we were in all the same classes at school, got the same clothes, had the same hobbies and interests, were treated with the exact same favour and discipline by our parents.

My point would still stand.

Because I am still my own person, and what may be perceived as the same external experience can still be received and processed in a different way internally. Sure, maybe if we were twins there may be a higher chance that similar neural pathways could be formed from shared experiences in upbringing, but to have absolutely no deviance whatsoever in any opinions and how we absorb this precious thing known as life for years on end is something I don’t believe would be possible.

I can’t tell my sister what her childhood was like, or how she is supposed to react to a certain scenario, just because that is how I (innately or consciously) have chosen to respond. Even moreso I am not qualified to place myself in this position of dictatorship upon the friends I grew up with and their own perception of the past. I believe this to be the case to an even higher degree for friends made past the era of childhood, in adolescence and adulthood.

My own childhood alone shall play a part in shaping my outlook of a childlike experience of the bible.

Granted, I feel it necessary to acknowledge the caveat that many with shared experiences do often find themselves relating to others in their opinions and feelings of them. I believe this goes without saying but saw no harm in doing so nonetheless.

In terms of my childhood, aside from the aimless fun and little thought to my future or purpose, accompanied with the dread, joy and many other emotions that is capable of bringing, there was one overarching theme of my childhood that I couldn’t ignore.

Boredom!

I can recall countless times as a child when I was bored.

Maybe it was because my bedtime was 8pm despite the height of summer being very evident, the sun resolutely remaining in the sky whilst I lay on my bed wishing for the next day to come sooner. This ball of heat mocking me, still allowed to be up whilst I could not and making sure I knew about it, almost crying myself to sleep at times lol.

Or waiting in a GP either to be seen or unwillingly chaperoning my dad, a bunch of magazines on the table I had no desire to explore.

Or waiting after school to be picked up by parents that had either forgotten I existed or were delayed in arrival (we can pretend to give them the benefit of the doubt lol).

Or sitting on the naughty step whilst the rest of the family enjoyed themselves in the other room.

I’m sure there are so many more examples I could recall and write at length about, all of them with the same theme:

I was bored and there was absolutely nothing I could (or was allowed) to do about it except wait for the time to pass.

Another one has sprang to mind:

Waiting for the bus, especially after just missing it (maybe even running for it, which is apparently an ick now) for what felt like an eon, for then three to arrive all at once after around thirty minutes (always somehow three, never two).

I look back on younger years almost in envy of how much opportunity I had to be bored. In a current season of life where boredom feels like a foreign concept, a distant memory I recall from an era long ago.

All this space and time that I had that I didn’t know what to do with (or wasn’t allowed to disrupt in any way).

Now seemingly vanished to the age of information and entertainment accessible at all times in all places.

This boredom of yesteryear slowed me down, something I didn’t know I needed at the time.

Something I now constantly crave.

I just parked my car and was about to meet some friends but had to intentionally decide to delay this in order to create time to write this and reflect more on my childhood and how life has reshaped my view of it.

A decision I do not regret.

Indeed it has been a while since I’ve posted. A part of me wants me to do better at being more frequent, but I don’t let that voice rule me as much anymore. It benefits me sometimes to give in to it and be propelled into action.

But then other voices, like the one you have just read from, wouldn’t be given the chance to step forward.

I promise to write more. In all honesty I’ve been writing. I’m always writing, sometimes only in my mind or upon my heart.

And there will always be some sort of stream from this rushing river that will find its way to a place like this.

Until next time (whenever that may be lol)