Let’s waste our time!

We need to learn how to be bored again!

Somehow, it is all about ‘more’. Achieving more, buying more, or making more money. To have ‘more’ you need to have a base level from which ‘more’ is defined. You can only have more than something. But that something is constantly changing.

We are told that we always have to be striving, in every aspect. That the sky is the limit. When in reality there is no limit. That’s why we are always moving and never standing still. Do more, do this, do anything — but don’t you dare waste your time.

I call bullshit.



Unsplash, by Glen Noble

We have to reach all of these arbitrary milestones, the ones society or an internet trend tells us to reach. And whenever we actually reach one, the next milestone is right there. We are never allowed to enjoy our achievements. Maybe briefly, but don’t we dare rest on our laurels.

And I wonder, what is it that I am not allowed to notice in life? Why do I always have to move? Why do I have to constantly aspire for something more than I already have? All this moving is making me experience life in a blur. I am never truly here.

When I started writing on here I promised myself to be consistent for once. It wasn’t my plan to abandon this project for almost two months. But it happened. These past sentences are the first I’ve written since.

At first, I thought it was just writer’s block, maybe it was. Then I told myself that I was busy, even though I wasn’t and knew that I was lying to myself. Why? I had no idea.

Only now am I beginning to realize why I took this unintentional break: I needed to learn how to be bored and for that I needed to waste my time.

Learning how to be bored

If you are surprised by that last sentence, you are not alone. No one is adding ‘waste your time’ to their listicle of ‘how to get over writer’s block’, ‘how to create your perfect writing routine to never have writer’s block’, or ‘how to create a life full of [insert trendy wellness phrase]’.

That type of content is nothing new. But what started out as a genuine way of reminding people that they are allowed to pause for a moment turned into something very grotesque. Not only has this type of content been turned into a multi-million dollar industry (which begs the question how genuine any of it really is), but it has also reached a point where every little thing in our lives is subjected to this greater meaning that we have to think about. Everything has to be done with such intense purpose. Your first cup of coffee in the morning is no longer just a way for you to wake up, it is part of a greater scheme that you have to plot. It is part of an aesthetic or a productive step-by-step guide. So the mug and coffee machine need to fit a vibe and you write ‘drink coffee’ on your to-do list to tick off later.

I’d like to make a bold suggestion: Can we all (do I dare say it?) just live our lives without thinking too much about every single detail of it? Have we truly unlearned to just live? I think we have.

I know what people will say. That if you want to live your life with a certain vibe and create it around an aesthetic I should just let them.

You do you, I mean it. Stop reading now if you are not the least bit interested in where this is going. But please allow me to ask you this: Would you do any of this (buy a coffee mug because it fits your vibe, spend X amount of money for the fancy coffee machine, write down your morning routine on a cute little notepad) if no one would ever see or hear about it?

Because not only does everything has to have a vibe or be part of a productive plan, it also needs to be content for a project or a potential career, or at the very least documented for your WhatsApp status or family group chat. And if you aren’t sharing it with others, you share it with yourself and your camera roll. Everything either has to have some form of outside validation to it, or any validation — even if it is just your own.

That makes everything a task, something to tick off our to-do list. Even the most mundane things are now part of our curated routine. Taking a shower, drinking a morning coffee — everything is actively thought about and mentioned. No longer are these the unwritten rules of life, now they are written out, in capital letters, and put in a headline to show the world and yourself that you are alive.

Why do we have to prove that we are alive, though?

Are we living our lives so chronically online that we have to prove to ourselves that we are indeed still living in the real world?

For the longest time, I thought this was a social media phenomenon. When I became tired of scrolling I thought the itch to document and share every little thing of my life would fade away. It didn’t. Because this has crossed the borders of social media already. Magazines, newspapers, the daily news on TV, your favorite radio show, a podcast, any content anywhere really, has turned the social media trends into headlines. From being more present or how to live a meaningful life, to how to curate the perfect wardrobe for a fall aesthetic or what decor items will create the cozy Christmas vibes in your home.

This is the world we live in now. Social media, online, or offline — there is no escape. Recently, I saw a ‘productivity set’ for your desk in one of my favorite home decor stores. Some kind of whiteboard to put on your desk where you can write out your morning routine. One of the pre-written examples was ‘take a shower’.

Have we checked out of our lives this much that we need a reminder to take a shower in the morning? Have we sunk this low?

When productivity eats itself

Writing this makes me the biggest hypocrite on earth. Over the years I have consumed and created content just like it. On how to create the perfect morning routine or how to romanticize your life. I fell right into the trap, just like everyone else. And I have to admit that some of the content is even useful. With the constant messages and notifications around us, sometimes we do need to be more present, more mindful, more actively involved in our day to day lives.

But at what point does the snake eat its own tail?

At what point do we become so actively involved in our lives and so incredibly present that we tick each moment off in our heads, where we live our lives in lists — one task at a time? At what point is being present too much?

The answer: When boredom feels like a terminal disease.

Or when you’d rather cut your own arm off than ‘waste your time’ with something unproductive.

Shortly after I succumbed to writer’s block, I had a few days off. Just because I needed to get rid of some vacation days, without any major outings or adventures planned. After a few days, there came a point where I quite literally had NOTHING TO DO.

The house was clean, the laundry done, the fridge full, and the garden was in shape. Since I’d rather cut my own arm off than waste my time, I was looking for something to do. But social media became mind-numbing real quick, so I stopped scrolling. Substack became monotonous, so I stopped reading. None of my books seemed interesting enough either. I felt like I watched every interesting show on any streaming service I subscribed to. Even YouTube had nothing new or interesting to offer. And my podcast library had no new episodes to show for.

I reached the unthinkable: I ticked off every little thing on my list and had no content to consume. I girlbossed so close to the sun that I reached a point in life that every life coach claims they want you to reach, but secretly hope you’ll never do because only the aspiration towards that point makes them money, not you actually achieving it.

I was bored for the first time in years, decades probably.

So, what happened then?

Well, nothing.

I literally lay on the couch and stared at the ceiling. I felt like a traveler stuck at the airport overnight with a dead phone, closed shops, and no books to entertain themselves with.

There are tons of articles and books out there that tell you how to get over this very situation I found myself in. Doing the Artist’s way, doing this, doing that.

The itch to hash out a plan that could get me out of the situation was strong. I desperately wanted to write a list of steps that would help me start writing again, do anything really.

But I decided to do none of that.

And it was heaven!

During the last few days off work, I lived without having any plans. I woke up and did whatever I felt like doing. I didn’t take any pictures, didn’t spend any time online, and didn’t write a single list.

And after a day or two, I didn’t actively think about the ‘not doing anything’ anymore. I had fun, and now, weeks later, I can’t even tell you what I did that was so much fun. I just existed — happily, passively. I remember good dinners with friends, great food, nothing of it planned, just spontaneous get-togethers. I remember having a lot of great naps and my brain actually quieting down.

Even when I went back to work life remained easy. When it came to planning or writing lists it was limited to work. Once the laptop was turned off my brain went back to being blissfully quiet. No afternoon projects or content to consume. No tasks to tick off except boring household things (I had to keep myself alive after all).

And all of that made me wonder: Can we just passively live our lives? Are we allowed to drift through our days without actively noticing every single detail around us? Are we allowed to be passive? At least a little bit? I am not saying we should all collectively check out of our lives, but we somehow went all the way to the other end of the extreme. An extreme where we live so actively present that we aren’t experiencing life at all.

XOXO
Annika