Bored people are EMPTY people.
They have nothing inside them . . . so they can only
experience what is before their
eyes. The only sensation they have is
what they are currently touching or feeling.
The only smells they can enjoy are the aromas and olfactory waftings of
the moment. The only sounds they can
hear are those vibrating physically about them.
They have no inner reserve from which to draw.
If you want to avoid boredom you must fill yourself . . .
become a bank of recorded and stored sights, sounds, sensations, and smells.
Make every day of your life a Quest to fill yourself with
every good thing that you can find.
Transform yourself into a repository of stories, pictures,
books, songs, and sounds. Fill your memory with flavors, tastes, and smells.
Intentionally and purposefully file away moments, scenes, and experiences.
Plan and put forth the effort to intentionally go to places
where you have never been.
Taste foods and dishes that have never before crossed your
palette.
Inhale rich, unusual smells and attach them to places,
situations, and circumstances.
Open your eyes wide to the wonders of every sunrise and
sunset that you can possibly view. See every new born baby, count the stars and
planets, burn the constellations into your heart. Bathe your eyes with every
color, blend, and hue.
Consider yourself to be on a treasure hunt . . . and fill
yourself every moment of every day with everything imaginable.
Application:
I’m in a Doctor’s waiting room . . . I will be there for an
undetermined amount of time. I don’t know where the remote control to the
waiting room television is . . . I don’t want to touch ANY of those ten year
old magazines that are scattered around the room (who KNOWS who has been
smearing infected body fluids on THOSE!).
I can just sit and wait for the nurse to call my name . . .
and be BORED . . . or I can board the Pequod with Ishmael as a member of Captain Ahab’s crew . . . and
chase Moby Dick across the seas. I don’t need an iPad or a Kindle to do that .
. . I’ve got it on the shelf of my mind!
Or . . . I can boldly go where no man has gone before by
reliving any of the 79 episodes of Star Trek the Original Series. I don’t need a mechanical video device.
I could also listen to the Beatles White album . . . . don’t
need earphones or a contrivance . . . and I know every word of every song.
Sitting right there in the waiting room I could visit
Niagara Falls again (I was there with my family in 1968 and took my new wife
with me again in 1976). I can still hear the roar of the water cascading over
into the iris below . . . see the rainbow within its horseshoe arc . . . and
feel the cool mist on my face.
I have filled my mind with every Hubble Space Telescope
image that has ever been posted on the internet . . . so, I can travel to the
outer reaches of our solar system and on to the galaxy beyond.
Well, the nurse just called my name . . . let me go on to
other examples . . .
I’m at a scheduled and required conference with hundreds of
other people . . . and frankly, none of
the material being delivered is new, fresh, or innovative. So I am going to
work on the sermon that I am going to delivery this coming Sunday . . . I have
all of my notes right here . . . in my brain. I’m even going to practice my
delivery . . . and no – no one sitting around me at the conference will even
know or be disturbed.
I’m riding with my friend . . . and can’t politely change
the channel on his radio . . . but I can make any song that he is playing sound
like Inna Godda DaVida by the Iron
Butterfly.
I have been invited to dine out with a friend and the restaurant that they chose does not serve exactly what I have a craving for . . . but every bite I place in my mouth today tastes like the very best Italian food.
I’m attending a church revival service . . . and the speaker
is not the most gifted preacher that I have ever heard. But in my ears today he sounds like R.G.
Lee. (I heard and met Dr. Lee at the
Vestavia Hills Baptist Church in 1976. He preached Payday, Someday, his most famous sermon.)
I started filling my life when I was 8 or 10 years old.
I read every kind of book, magazine, newspaper, and internet
article. I constantly listen to music of every sort from the four corners of
the world. I watch movies and I study life and the living.
I am always ready to go to some place yet unvisited . . . to meet someone new . . . to have some new wonderful experience.
My life is FULL of music, melody, magic, and madness!
I have thousands of faces, smiles, and laughs recorded
indelibly in my heart.
I can relive that day that I became a Christian without having
lost a single detail.
I can kiss the love of my life again for the very first time
(it was on her home doorstep on Byrd Spring Road, she smelled like
honeysuckle. That doorstep, in the
carport, is now covered by their living room).
I can hold her hands as we stand in front of Dr. John
Hamilton, exchanging our wedding vows.
And any time . . . any where . . . I can realistically
relive the arrival of my daughter and son into the world.
I never get bored.
I can visit the Iron Man (Vulcan statue in Birmingham), the
Zoo, the Circus in Houston, Texas.
It is all very real . . . and all of it is at the fingertips
of my mind.
I can understand if you don’t like a speech which you are
compelled to hear, or you don’t like the vegetables that are on your plate, or
the song that has been selected, or the scene that is on the screen.
You are
distressed, sad, annoyed, angry, disappointed, critical, and sour . . . you are
bored.
Because you are hollow . . . you are empty . . . and all you
have is what is in front of you.
I’m sorry . . . and sad for you . . . but I can’t let the
emptiness in YOUR life . . . bring MY life down.
Excuse me . . . right now I’m Neil Armstrong . . . and I’m going to
the Moon!
