Letting Yourself Be Bored Again
Boredom is something I didn’t think about for a long time. Not because it went away, but because I got used to filling it. There’s always something to reach for. Email, scrolling, something playing in the background. It doesn’t take much to keep your mind occupied, and most of the time it feels harmless.
After a while, I started noticing that I wasn’t really giving anything space to settle. I was moving from one thing to the next without much of a break, and my work started to feel a little predictable. Not bad, just like I was pulling from the same place every time.
When I think back to when I was younger, boredom was just part of the day. There were long stretches where nothing was happening and nothing was expected. I remember lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, or sitting outside with nothing to do. It felt slow, sometimes annoying, but it usually led somewhere. I would start making things just to fill the time, and those ideas didn’t feel forced. That kind of time is harder to come by now.
Most days are full, even when I’m not trying to make them that way. Teaching, meetings, studio work, everything around it. Even when I do have time set aside, there’s this pressure to use it well. To finish something. To make it count. The problem is that most of my better ideas don’t show up when I’m trying to make them happen. They show up when I stop pushing for them.
I started noticing that again when I left a little space open on purpose. Sitting outside without my phone, walking without anything playing, just letting my mind wander for a bit. It felt uncomfortable at first. I kept catching myself reaching for something without even thinking about it.
Once that settled, things started to come through. Small things at first. A color combination I hadn’t thought about, a layout I wanted to try, a phrase that stuck in my head. Nothing fully formed, but enough to come back to later. That kind of thinking doesn’t really happen when everything is filled.
It’s easy to forget that because we’re used to keeping ourselves occupied. I still do it. I’m not trying to cut everything out. But when every quiet moment gets replaced, there isn’t much room left for your own thoughts. That’s usually when my work starts to feel disconnected.
So lately I’ve been leaving a few of those spaces open. Nothing structured, just noticing when I’m about to fill the time and not doing it. Sitting for a few minutes without turning it into anything. Sometimes nothing happens, which is fine. Other times something small shows up that I wouldn’t have caught otherwise. It’s not about trying to get an idea out of it. It’s just giving it somewhere to land.
I’ve also noticed that when I don’t give myself that space, I stay in reaction mode. Answering things, responding to whatever is in front of me. There’s not much room for anything new to come in when everything is already taken up. That shift alone changes how I come back to the studio. The work feels a little looser. I’m not trying to solve everything right away. I have something to start from, even if it’s just a small detail that stuck with me.
Time is always part of this. I don’t have big open stretches where I can just sit around and think. Most of the time it’s a few minutes here and there. But even that is enough. If I don’t immediately fill it, something usually comes through. I’ve stopped trying to turn it into a whole system. It’s really just noticing when I’m about to reach for something out of habit and not doing it. Letting it sit for a second and seeing what happens instead.
If your work has been feeling a little stuck or repetitive, it might be worth paying attention to how much space you’re giving yourself to not do anything for a bit. Not to fix anything, just to see what shows up when you stop filling the silence. That’s usually where things start to shift.