Boredom

It’s very hot these days. One digital thermometer in town lists 102 degrees and another records only 100 degrees. I’m ok, but I pity the working person. I walk slowly, try to stay in cooler places, and start drinking a bit earlier. They have to move about productively. I saw two men tearing up a roof on a house, only to have to suffer shingling it later.

I’ve felt lost lately, unable to focus clearly. There are books all about me, but in fact, I don’t have a question for which any of the books might hold any answer. I remember learning (from Adam Phillips) that boredom is a state in which we await a push into a certain direction—a new pursuit. I experience boredom when I don’t know what to do next and I am awaiting something that will impel into action. And all about me are books holding all kinds of possibility, but none right now for me.

Emma returns from Israel tomorrow. I will be relieved.

So, it’s a return to random activity, ceaseless moving with no direction, awaiting some cosmic push.