Are We Bored Yet?

by Leslie Godfrey in , ,


It is raining cats and dogs here in Tonga, today.  We have already had to bail out Grin to keep him afloat…twice.  So, we are holed up in Sonrisa waiting for the weather to lift.  This down-time gives me a chance to reflect on boredom.  

When we were leaving, we told many people about the plan.  I was sitting in one of my business partners’ offices as he quizzed me about the future.  The leather of his office couch squeaked beneath me as I shifted between excitement of executing our biggest dream and the tremble of the nerves you have been reading about since this blog started.  He and I were enjoying the banter that surrounds possibility when a second partner joined the conversation.

This newcomer voiced concerns unique amongst our entire group of family, friends and colleagues.  His concern was not with sea storms, pirates or medical emergencies.  Instead, his concern was with a possible lack of intellectual stimulation.  “You will be bored in two months.”  

Maybe many people thought this, but just didn’t voice it.  Or, maybe, in the throes of work, raising children and other day to day requirements no one else could fathom how you can get bored of white sand, tropical fish, cocktails, and sunbathing.  But, this business partner struck upon one of my greatest curiosities.  I had long wondered if I would get bored.  Maybe every day would start to blend into the next:  island, beach, island, beach, snorkel, snorkel. 

When I was a little kid, it was punishable by manual labor to say “I’m bored.”  If my mother ever heard us whine that we were bored she would say: “then read a book!”  And, if the whining continued, she would “show us how bored we really were” by assigning us to clean our room.  As a result, I am rarely bored.  (Thanks, Ma!)

We see a lot of palm trees out here;  a lot of fish; a lot of sand; a lot of jungle; a lot of flowers.  We meet a lot of kind and friendly people.  But, life is this way.  When you view your days in the aggregate they all blend together.  Family, landscape, commute, work, palm trees, sand.  It is easy to get numb to daily miracles. It’s all just another day in the machine of life, another cog ticking by in an endless cycle.  All of it is “boring” - or maybe repetitive is a better word - if you look from such a singular level.  

One of my favorite authors addresses this conundrum.  Edward Abby spent several years living as a park ranger in the wilderness areas of Moab, Utah.  His book Desert Solitaire, all about his beloved desert wilderness speaks to me on the notion that you can live your entire life exploring one tiny nook of this Earth and never get bored.  His thoughts about Moab’s Delicate Arch seem especially poignant:

“The shock of the real.  For a little while we are again able to see as the child sees a world of marvels.  For a few moments we discover that nothing can be taken for granted - for if this ring of stone is marvelous, then all which formed it is marvelous.  And, our journey here on earth in which we are able to see and touch and learn in the midst of tangible and mysterious nature is the most strange and daring of all adventure.”

Yes, there is tedium in any life we lead:  Andrew’s boat maintenance regimen, hand washing dishes and emptying the toilet are all less than colorful tasks. Document review and time keeping are similar back in my business world.  But I would be such a fool to look at this trip as island, beach, island, beach, snorkel, snorkel, snorkel. 

If I pay closer attention, every time I jump in to snorkel I find a new and fascinating pattern in the coral that I have never seen before.  

The types of fish are as numerous as the stars in the sky. 

The variety of flowers are like a pattern of lace, the stitches intricate and the spaces between delicate.

Some locals smile and wave, others divert their course to pick you up, take you to the gas station and drive you all the way back to the marina. 

Other cruisers are also a source of curiosity, with their histories painting them into this particular corner of the world, right next door to us.

For Andrew, maintaining Sonrisa is like working on a giant puzzle box and planning her ships spare parts stores to last through far-flung locations where it is difficult if not impossible to obtain pieces is a mind-bending project.

For me, I find writing this blog and learning photography is a creative opportunity I’ve never had time to pursue.

We both bend our minds around making connections with people despite our differences in language and culture, navigation, weather and route planning have their own strategic components - especially when we have to try to fit it into the bigger picture of cyclone seasons and our overall project finance plan.

In other words, there is plenty to do to keep our minds occupied out here.

We would all be such fools to look at our lives as “another day in the life.” The people we love change and transform.  Every sunset is different, even when you view it from the same window every day.  A painting is always brushed with color, but somehow, each creation is unique and new. When we allow our heart to fill with wonder and curiosity, the kaleidoscope of our existence comes into focus.  It is our human privilege to explore where we are now, wherever we want to be, and the grounds of our internal landscape as we make our way from here to there.  When we feel bored, I think it is an internal message that we have something more we could be doing.  Maybe it’s time to look forward and plot a new course, or maybe it’s time to look deeper and appreciate where we are more carefully.  Either way, it’s a message that should not be overlooked because every moment we spend in boredom is a moment in this short life that is tossed away.