I’ve learned what causes my boredom: lack of contentment. Being a high-strung individual, down time means I’m not doing something; “shoulds” are not being met, and I’m down because in my head, words equal feelings. If I can’t sit still and simply enjoy the moment, it reasonably follows that I’m a miserable misfit, incapable of enjoying the normalcy of life.
Step 3: made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God, as we understood Him.
The egomaniac with low self-esteem in me constantly needs love and reassurance, all the while pushing away those who show any interest in offering either. I crave to impress, then diminish any compliments that might come my way. There’s always, always, always, on some level, good and bad, a fundamental lack of acceptance. Even my victories I blanket in failure, in limitations, in contingencies and, above all, suspicion. None of which sounds like I’m turning my will over; to trust someone or something bigger than myself. Luckily, I’m willing to be willing, but that’s limbo, that’s standing-still. That’s boredom. That’s clinging to the status quo that I know and loath. I only can spend so much time stretching and warming up. At some point, I gotta get running.
So, paradoxically, I need to work on my ability to get up, get moving, and sit still. Funnily enough, most people don’t find it difficult to do nothing; to take a break and just rest for an hour or two. Is it because I equate doing nothing with being nothing? That I’m not worthy of wasting time? And what do I consider to be wasting time? Well, here’s a partial list: watching television, reading books for pleasure, meals, phone calls, sleeping.
Sure, I’ll cut myself some slack: I can have the television on while I’m cleaning; I’ll put you on speaker phone while driving. As long as I’m multi-tasking, then it’s not a total loss. See, it’s the stillness that allows for the dwelling and obsessing. So I keep moving, keep sweeping, keep rearranging, keep walking, keep organizing. Because if I can straighten out the back room in the basement for the fifth time in two months, then things are getting done, and I’m in control. Which is exactly where this program warns me not to be.
Today: Growth steps. Sit and look out the window for fifteen minutes, while petting the cat. And here’s a thought: try to live within the Program, and do a couple of the suggestions. Now that’s positive reinforcement.
Being alone in my head used to be horrible. Anything to avoid self reflection.
It does slowly get better! Petting the cat is a great start.
Reading books purely for pleasure is something I consider to be a part of my healing process — one of those things that keeps my mind whole and lets me know I can still connect most of the dots.