Bored
I’m bored.
I have to spend another hour before I can actually go somewhere and do something else. And I have nothing to do.
There is an emptiness in my life that screams at me to do something, anything.
Anything is better than being bored.
Is it?
Because boredom is one entrance to creativity.
Nature ahorrs a vaccuum. Aristotle said that, thousands of years ago.
I believe that the mind is similar. It can’t stand doing nothing. That’s why meditation is so hard.
And if I allow boredom, if I allow that drone of nothing to enter my mind long enough…
… my mind fills the vaccum.
Usually with stories. With “what if?”
So now I’ll lean back, close my eyes and allow boredom.
Allowing stories to grow.
