“Sometimes… when I am bored…”

That was the intro line to a conversation, my co-worker started. She cracks me up… we have offices right across each other and we chat as there are in the same room. Reality is that a small narrow hallway separates us.

It’s funny how we react to boredom. She mentions to me that during the times where she feels bored, she looks up homes.

Nothing weird about that.

Well, she opts for the 7–8 figure homes. She cracks me up. As she browses, she comments, “This house looks too snobby”. I bust out laughing, and respond, “They should for that price!”

I started to inquire in my mind, “What do YOU do when you are bored?” I drew a blank… I don’t think I am ever “bored”. I am always doing “something” or talking to “someone”.

I just read a magazine where it talked about a lack of balance in our time. It really made me focus on the fact that I don’t usually take time to just think, or relax, or even… daydream. I am constantly cramming 24 hours worth of things/errands/meetings into 24 hours worth. Does that make sense?

At first when I said that out loud, I thought, “Okay so I am not adding anything else, I am balanced”.

Nope.

In a 24 hour day, you have increments. 8 hours to sleep (which I only take about 4–6 hrs, if that) and then comes the list of things. 8 hours for school/work, 8 hours for the things in the middle.

So, what I did is step back, and rewind…

When I was a kid, life was different. There was no time to be “bored”. I remember hurrying through my chores so that I can go outside to play. I would be out until the street lights came on, but mostly, until my mom threatened me (I think CPS would have had a field day with those threats).

I remember spending time coloring, playing outside with upside down buckets as drums, taping along to Kingdom Melodies with tree branches. Then, I would pray, and I would stack all my stuffed animals in rows, and would to read them “My Book of Bible Stories”. I had about 16 bible studies under my belt! Quite proud of myself right now.

I would climb our back yard trees, and I would race up the tree. I would time it over and over and over, and then I would call my parents out to show them my record…3 seconds! I remember turning tables on their sides, and using old sheets to make a house, in my back yard. The thing that I notice now, I was alone when I did these things. I didn’t have an imaginary friend, or have a sibling, it was all me.

Why, did that simple life become such a “fantasy”, now? I asked a friend of mine the other day, “Do you ever do silly things?” Even as I asked, I blushed and felt stupid for asking.

Why? Why did I stop doing silly things? At what age was “fun” now too embarrassing to do?

I get it, we “grow up”, and even as simple as that sounds, it makes me sad. I feel that just as life got “going”, I lost the innocence of me, my“reality”, and was forced to live in the “real world” with “real problems” to live the “real life”. Yay.

But at least in reflecting on this, it’s forcing me to find a way to use my time wisely. To set aside some time to color a book, play with clay, draw…. etc. #Newgoals #Havefun #Actlikeafiveyearoldatforty

Now, my new phrase will be…. sometimes, when I am bored…and I will not draw a blank. Instead, I will draw a picture!

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