Tom Hellum, a Norwegian TV producer launched with colleagues a new kind of documentary called slow TV. His longest continuously running documentary of a Norwegian ship’s journey through the country’s magnificent waters was more than 134 continuous hours! The everyday boredom, or perhaps understatement of Norwegians was enlivened with the majesty of the ordinary. As part of this “reality” TV, people tuned in to see themselves, their neighbors, and the beauty of their world, their reality. The slow TV gave them an opportunity to savor moments, notice small things, participate in life, their lives. The landscape and waters were not just something to see, but something to which they could connect in the present moment. I reflected on the opportunities we all have to immerse ourselves into our very own slow TV. I call it a place called boredom, an obvious reframing of a negative feeling or state.
If a kingdom is a place, why not regard boredom as a place — in our mind? Unlike most kingdoms, we are both the monarch and the subjects in that place called boredom. We rule over our feelings of depression, listlessness, resentment, anger, hopelessness and despair. We demand that sad feelings linger even though they beg to depart. We keep inviting them back again and again, so that we can feel the anguish. We can be a cruel monarch!
As subjects, we respond to those feeling guests with lack of motivation, negative thoughts and a refusal to matter to the world. We invite them to beat us up with untrue thoughts and melancholy. Boredom can be a sad story of our lives, a desperate tale of longing to be loved. It begins with a strong, uncomfortable feeling of separation from others, proceeds with dramatic attention to what’s not working, followed by scenes of the bruises of failure, shame and rejection. It ends badly.
There is another story: One that never ends, but allows joy every day, every moment.
Every kingdom has neighborhoods, sections that are safe and beautiful. In the place called boredom, there are neighborhoods as well. One is called imagination, another compassion. Yet another is called forgiveness, but the best is called awakening. In the neighborhood of imagination, we can dream of better times, or envision peace and tranquility, but if we linger too long in that neighborhood, we miss the present moment as we mortgage our present for the future.
In the neighborhood of compassion, we recognize suffering, our own and others, and commit to supporting others because we know that what we do for others, we do for ourselves. We choose to express compassion freely without an expectation of reward, and in that unconditional compassion, we experience happiness.
In the neighborhood called forgiveness, we release our pain and send love to ourselves and others. We heal the wounds laid bare with resentment and anger. But if our forgiveness is an empty dispensation without awakening to the spirit and innocence of ourselves and others, we can be vulnerable to future feelings of victimhood.
In the neighborhood of awakening, we are fully aware of every moment of our lives as a unique gift of presence. We turn our spiritual eyes inward and see more clearly that each moment is a treasure. Stillness murmurs lovingly to us as we wake up to the present moment in all its glory. In our awakened state, we see with new eyes; we experience joy and peace. We participate in life, instead of longing for something we already have.
In a place called boredom, we can choose our neighborhood if we just slow our gaze. We can then see that we are an integral expression of the divine in this life. We are love. We can live and breathe and have our being in this place, this kingdom within.