The boredom of living a life of "shoulds"

Yawn.

I have never been bored. Life is not boring. I am not boring. So how can I have possibly ever been bored? There’s a smorgasbord of tantalising things available to us in this life, many of which are free. When there’s trees to picnic under, lakes to spot swans in and snails to witness creeping in the rain; how could one ever get bored? When there’s a brain that can pretend the floor is lava, feet that know how to dance, and time to reminisce on days that have been carved into our hippocampus, really how could one get bored?

I may not get bored by the sumptuousness of existence, but boy do I get bored by anything that resembles a lack of curiosity, creativity and a willingness to challenge and question. The raison d'etre of this very newsletter, is about being difficult, and to poke holes in the idea that “it’s just what people do”, means that you have to. Because, how boring is that? Imagine believing that magnificent little you, who produces about 40,000 litres of spit in your lifetime, whose blood vessels could circle Earth’s equator four times and with no-one else on the planet who has the exact same DNA as you (unless you’re an identical twin), was placed in this world to follow suit, fall in line and do what has always been done.

I don’t think so.

I also completely understand how easy it is for us all to be seduced into the comforting embrace of seeing a path and believing it is ours to follow. The inherent familiarity of routines, traditions and milestones speaks to exactly who we know ourselves to be as a people. We crave belonging. We write essays on group thinking, give talks on pack mentalities, and debate our fondness for conforming. We know this is part of being human. It allows us to make sense of why we are the way we are, and while I know what compels us to do it, myself included, I find it desperately dull.

Last night, my friend Nadia Meli and I were walking along a typical street in a typical town in South East England. Having the kind of rivetingly rich conversations that span from if we think people would believe us if we were kidnapped by aliens to how sad these streets make us feel.

The sadness comes from the sameness of rows upon rows of houses that have the same energy as trying to figure out how to get your homemade pancakes to be perfectly symmetrical, just like the local diner does. The same cars line the driveways, a peek into the same blinds and curtains reveals similar sized TV’s, and recycling bins bursting with the same packaging from the local supermarket. As we continued walking, we came across a scene so absurd that we convinced ourselves that maybe the aliens had already come for us and we were in some kind of alternate reality.

As you can see pictured here, this is not a mirrored image. Oh, no. It is indeed two separate houses, two households, two families, with the same two cars. The same two cars, in the same colour, the same brand and I presume models, parked in the exact same position. You really can’t make this up. If ever there was a writer’s wet dream, this was it, dear readers. Also, look at the sky please. The dichotomy between the magic of the planet and the mundane of the materials that occupy it. Yet, we’ve somehow been told to praise and worship the latter.

In an effort to not be judgemental, but acknowledging that it is, the feeling this photo gives me is of course, one of sheer boredom and awe at the lack of creative thinking on display. Surely, there are other cars available? There’s also a deep fascination that swells within me about how conditioned we are to live identical lives that are devoid of creativity, intuition and critical thought. Which makes a multiverse of sense as the systems that we live in do not benefit from us doing the opposite.

When I was 14, I stopped eating meat. Before my fingers could even type the PETA website into Google and be horrified by videos of meat production, my reasoning was obnoxiously simple, as per my age, “there are just plenty other things I could eat.” I had choice. I had the choice to not only choose what I wanted to eat, but the choice to choose something perceived as going against the norm. It didn’t occur to me that because everyone else ate meat, that I should too. The simplicity of my reason is still valid today, there are just plenty other ways that we can live. This fact alone, is why I am increasingly bored that collectively there is a lack of exploring all the many ways in which we might do so.

We discredit our ever-changing brains by believing that we are beholden to the primitiveness that believes that everything is a threat to our survival, if we choose to escape the inertia of falling in line with socio-cultural expectations. Does it feel cute to go against the grain and express yourself loudly? No. Does it feel like ease and grace to not drink alcohol, when most people do? No. Do you want to be the only person on your street with a black car when everyone else has a white one? I mean, I can’t even metaphorically pretend to answer that. But, whose life is it? We can train our brains to do pretty much anything, we worked out how to retrieve things from the recycling bin on our first computers, we can do anything. We can do what is ours to do. A life that is ours and not one that is given or told. If we choose not to do all of the things that we’re supposed to do, the world will not end, in fact it might open up planes of possibility that will change the very nature of how we see existence.

I spent over a decade in the workplace, resenting every minute. I was not born for labour and asking permission to take annual leave, I was born to frolic and play with my friends. I hated it there. I also have too many questions for places of employment that pride themselves on stagnancy and silencing. Around seven years ago, in yet another disappointing job that I had naively convinced myself would be “the one”, and growing tired of a commute that included three transfers on the tube, I dared to ask my boss a question.

“Is it possible for me to work from home a couple of days a week?”

I’m a sensible girl. I don’t make statements without researching. I come equipped with evidence, data, real-word experience and screenshots, because as a Sagittarian, I will not embarrass myself with a weak comeback to anyones retort. My question was met with a soup of confusion and disbelief (interesting as the possibility of working from home was dangled in my terms of employment like Sephora’s store card rewards).

For a job, that really only needed my laptop on most days, it was mind-blowing to me that presenteeism was so pervasive that doing something another way wasn’t even considered. Even in an incredibly small company, that had the luxury of doing so. Instead of creating a new culture, the old one must be stuck to because, sing along with me, “that’s just what people do”.

Boring. Ever so boring.

Because, why do we have a planet so spectacular but we’re too busy working to enjoy it…

There is a mini death that occurs in the mind of every creative when you have a precious stone of an idea, that someone won’t execute because they are unwilling to take risks, try something different or progress the conversation. Bureaucracy strangles creativity and the possibility for growth and change; and quite frankly, I’m allergic to it. It’s why I couldn’t remain in those industries, ones that called themselves creative but were not. Sitting in meetings, spending days researching and thinking about ideas to push forward to have them say, “oh there’s no budget, that’s too much of a risk, we haven’t done that before”. When what I’m internally translating that to is, “this doesn’t feel safe, this isn’t familiar, this isn’t what people do, so we can’t do it.”

How boring. How can the world change if we are stuck in this narrative that if we haven’t seen it or done it, then it is not possible?

People assume that I shit-talk dating apps, because I’ve had awful dates. Nope. I’ve had some beautiful experiences and met some amazing people. I just don’t like how the apps operate and the lack of real connection they inspire, but what I found myself often exasperated by, was how boring most of the profiles I read were. Profiles by people who I refuse to believe are boring in real life. There’s such a huge opportunity to express who you are to the world on there. To speak into what excites and moves you. A personal ad. A shop window. So, when people say the exact same things, I am very confused. It’s like going into a shop and they only sell black t-shirts and you’re expected to somehow find a match for you when they all sound and talk the same.

I get it. Group thinking. Conformity. Black t-shirt and white car syndrome. Sure. If you want to find love, maybe it’s safer to stay in this pixelated box of acceptability where you can be scanned as safe, lovable, and well, human. If you colour outside the dating lines then nope, no love for you. So the same scripts continue to play out. Follow the dating rules. Use these three photographs. Always include a dog. Maybe, a shot of you fishing. One with some friends to avoid looking like a creep. Preferably smiling, always with teeth. The same questions asked. The same ideas for first dates. The same lists of what they do each weekend. Sunday roasts and a walk if you’re in the UK. Say you want to go to Japan this year, even if you don’t. Did I mention dogs? Reiterate that you love dogs. Travel. Travel. Travel. Write how many countries you’ve visited. Put 63 emojis of flags to prove the point. Eating food is a lifestyle, highlight that you love food. Looking for a life partner. How many kids do you want? Do you see yourself getting married? Do you have any trips planned?

Boring. Boring. Boring.

It’s not boring because I don’t like people’s choices, as I’m a solid believer of just letting people live. It’s boring because I am not convinced that this is who people actually are. That this is what truly makes us human. I love visiting new places, I love dogs and I love food, just as much as everyone else, and those are all probably some of the most uninteresting and unimportant things about me.

I want to know what excites, moves and angers you. Tell me about the films that make you hide behind cushions and the texts you have starred on your phone because they make you smile so hard that you have to keep going back to re-read them. How would your friends describe you? What would you want people to whisper into rooms about you long after you’ve left them? What have you experienced during your stay here on Earth? Tell me, I want to know. If you really want to go to Japan, please tell me why in vivid detail, beyond “because everyone else does”.

There is so much beauty, majesty, and joy here. I find myself gasping for air when I see a ladybird coming to greet me as it navigates a taxi window or the shape of a leaf I have never discovered. I am surrounded by people who see the world with childlike wonder. Where we ask interesting questions of each other and the world. Where we feel things so intimately, it sometimes feels like we wear our insides as skin, that the world lotions up with all its love and heartbreak.

I don’t expect everyone to be this way, but I really believe that this is how we all were. That this way of seeing life speaks to our humanity in a way that the contents of our shopping bags don’t. It’s what I wish governments would speak about. That our cultural diet growing up was about the richness of this planet and our place within it. We talk ourselves into circles about what our purpose might be. Regrets. Questioning why we’re here. In a world that is hurting, we discuss how we can rebuild and rethink, create solutions. The keyword is create. How can we create things if we keep doing the same things?

We fear AI and act as if it will make everything work on autopilot, that it will change our lives for the worse and remove human creativity. But, aren’t we already doing that? Aren’t we already living on autopilot? When we forget to look up at clouds so achingly pretty because we're rushing for an appointment, don't pause to help a stranger or my personal irritation (don't say thank you when someone stops to let you walk past on a narrow street or after opening a door for them), is that not us running on autopilot, devoid of emotion and disconnected to what speaks to the very essence of our humanity?

Lives lived in automatic. Piercing sameness. Humans turning into Non Player Characters like our most beloved video games. We aren't characters we are people. Our choices and the things we consume and own, speak words into the world about what we value and honour. About how we want to spend our time here. It's the substance of what we communicate with the world. I don't care what anyone chooses. I care about why they choose it. I’m well aware that I’m a writer who sees every minor detail in life as a story waiting to be told. Call me romantic, but I want to sit and look into your eyes and see what moves you. Even if you bought the matchy-matchy white car, energise us by sharing why you chose it. Did you like that it had heated seats? Does it just make you feel happy? I love that for you. What is it that moves you beyond what you think you should do?

Ultimately, for me anyway, this is what makes life so spectacular. The passion! Energy! Life! I loathe overusing an exclamation point, but this sentence needs it and actually, the world could use more wild exclamation. More pouring ounces of fucking joy, excitement and downright wonder into everything. Because, isn't it the most boring thing in a world of 8 billion unique humans to just do what has been done or what you’ve been told to do.

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I guess it comes back to what it always seems to come back to for me, the art of reconnection. The consistent checking in with ourselves to connect and see who we are today. To not be in script with who we were or who we were told we had to be. I check in all the time if I still want to be vegetarian. The reason today is still as powerful as yesterday, but regardless I ask questions of myself each day. I don’t take who I am today for granted. I don’t make assumptions of myself.

Connecting to others also keeps us in conversation instead of comparison and competition. So, we feel free to get cars that others don’t have just because we liked the steering wheel or write dating profiles that speak into our uniqueness. Where we sit and discuss, ponder, go beyond the safety of small talk and into the boldness of speaking from truth instead of the surface. Where we aren’t auditioning to be told we belong, we are just in it to give our expression and receive someone else’s. A desire to connect, irrespective of the outcome. Where we listen to each other’s passions and ideas. Sharing pictures of trees that spoke to us and sending songs that get us giddy. Where we know each other. Truly, know each other.

Then, we connect back to life. Not the life we can buy. Not just the things we own and consume. The life that exists when everything else isn’t there, and we still know how to enjoy this, to be in this, to feel it. Isn’t that what it means to not be bored? Knowing how to exist without distraction. To be in time. To connect to all parts of us. To maybe be on an 8 hour flight where moving through clouds is our only entertainment. That’s one step too far, even for me, but you get the sentiment.

The capacity to hold both is vital. The days when it is just exhausting and heartbreaking to occupy a body, but allowing yourself to experience something that tantalises you within that heavy day. Never ignoring life. Always looking. Asking questions. Deciding. Checking in. Using your senses. Thinking of new things to say and do. To play with. Not waiting for something to be the source of entertainment but creating it ourselves. The refusal to be bored.

I once read about artist Camila Falquez’ work, Gods That Walk Among Us, and in speaking about it she said, “as an old Rumba advises, “Si vamos a hablar, hablemos profundo” (if we are going to talk, let’s talk profoundly).”

… And if ever there was an antidote to boredom, that might just be it.

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London/UK friends… in a refusal for boredom, let’s hang out together. I’m doing a group walk filled with wonder, slowing down together and stepping out of the hustle this weekend.

Details here!