Creativity, Boredom, and Sunday Supper

When did life get so complicated? How can we be connected 24/7 and yet, many of us feel lonely, isolated, or depressed? In this season of winter, I have been reflecting on my childhood. Every generation loves to point out things that have changed since they were young. Usually, it is to highlight how much better today’s kids have it. I mean, I get it. We didn’t have remote controls, we were the remote controls. Our exposure to information was not on a 24/7 cycle and things were not Automatic.

In many ways, I think life was easier in the 70s and 80s when I grew up. Today, we have access to almost anything our hearts desire 24/7. We can shop online anytime. We do not need to leave our homes to get food, clothing, or even toilet paper. Almost anything can be ordered and delivered to our home without leaving our sofa or putting on pants.

Entertainment and information are available every second of the day from a 4” x 6’ glowing box that we keep attached to our hip. Our phones have become a part of us. An extension that we remove only to charge the battery. Heck, most people take their cell phones into the restroom. There is no escape from stimuli coming in.

Patience has become obsolete. Anticipation is passé. Creativity is fading. Our minds are not required to remember anything, except passwords, and because our brains have atrophied, we cannot do that well.

Aren’t you being a bit cynical? Probably. There is value in information. I am grateful my son did not have to lug 30# of books to and from school every day, but then again, we were tougher for it.

There is so much we gain by interacting with others in real life. There is value in being bored and left with nothing but your mind to entertain you. There is beauty in not having the answer to every problem right at our fingertips. Unanswered questions leave room for imagination and possibility!

I was interviewed by Elaine Pardi today in the Mind of Curiosity room on Clubhouse. Elaine brought up the topic of childhood. She wanted to know what activities I enjoyed as a child. I loved using my imagination. I didn’t have lots of toys or material things. Our family was poor, but I was a rockstar in my room with my hairbrush as a microphone singing along to my 8 track beats. When friends came over, we would make up games, sing, create, and use our imaginations.

One morning, my brother and I decided to turn my Dad’s recliner into a ride at Disneyland. My brother found an old electrical cord. It had a plug on one side and frayed wires on the other. We shoved the frayed wires down the side of the my Dad’s chair and plugged in the cord. We sat in the chair pretending we were on Space Mountain. Our game was short-lived when it quickly turned into Fire on the Mountain, but we lived, and the story we now have to tell.

I am not saying that it would serve our children to give them hot wires, blow torches, or matches to play with. But time connecting with our minds and other people, and less with devices, would probably be a good start.

Growing up, people always dropped by our house. They did not call first and warn us they were coming. A knock on the door, and they were invited into the house–The REAL house. Not the home we allow others to see only through an Instagram filter. There may be laundry on the sofa that they helped my mom fold so they could sit, have a cup of coffee, and conversate. It was simple.

Dropping by someone’s house is almost unheard of. People rarely even pick up a phone and call one another. They text. Unannounced visits and phone calls are considered invasive or rude.

A few months ago, I decided to change how I show up. Lately, you might just hear my voice because I am picking up the phone more (well when Emily is quiet enough to allow this form of communication). I am hosting We Are Brave Together meetings in my home without much planning or preparation. I set the date and time, put out some snacks, and let the conversation and the company be the center of attention.

I am hosting my in-laws for Sunday Suppers. I let go of the idea that I must create an elaborate meal and plan activities. We simply share a meal together. Nothing fancy. There are nights when I order in pizza and we work on a puzzle together. I have gained so much insight from these dinners. (More to come on those in the future.)

We do not have to be slaves to our devices and to automation. We can choose to turn off the screens sometimes. We can opt-in on meeting face-to-face and share a cup of coffee, fold laundry together, or maybe belt out a song out of tune together. We can practice patience, anticipation, and boredom and see where it leads. We might create something new or discover something about ourselves or others.