The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity.-Ellen Parr, graphic designer
Things haven’t worked out as planned. This was a three day weekend that we had planned for my friends to come over and have a vision board party. We set the date on the calendar for weeks, I cleaned the house, ordered a pull out couch to be delivered on time, made gluten free brownies, and bought the right kind of alternative milk and gluten free bread for our weekend breakfasts. Yet things didn’t work out, as a friend’s boyfriend got Covid and she then proceeded to get sick. As precaution, she didn’t come and due to rain warnings with potential mudslide warnings the other friends didn’t come as well. This is post pandemic life. I admit, initially I was highly frustrated. Now that I have a fully time job, these holiday weekends are sparse, and I planned each with intention and purpose. But things don’t always go as we plan. Automatically, I had the urge to come up with backup plans, which included trying to attend a sound healing in Santa Barbara that would be held in a salt cave. I called the healing center, but it was sold out. I could go on a whale watching tour alone, but was weary with the high waves and potential storm brewing.
I was fearing frustration and boredom. I wanted to feel I did something for the weekend, that it meant something and it was worthy of a day off. I was doomed to spend several days at home, with no friends, no dates, no plans. And therefore, I was bored.
Yes, I know this sounds totally dramatic.
I recognized in that moment I had options on what to do or how to think. I could get angry and ruminate on the idea that I can never count on others for plans and view all Californians as flakes, including my friends. I could go to LA and find something to do, dependent on my brother’s plans. I could binge on Netflix shows. Take extended naps. Shop (although I was not buying any clothing or shoes this year). Explore nature. Engage in creative activities.
And in the multitude of thoughts arising, I could reframe it all and view this as a gift. I had my weekends planned out for the next several weeks, including a pending trip to Seattle next weekend. This cancellation of plans doesn’t have to equate with stress and frustration. It could be a blessing, an opportunity for time affluence and abundance.
So my weekend consisted of a variety of these things. Preparing my tax documents for my accountant, catching up with friends on the phone, making new ethnic dishes, taking walks on the beach, preparing for my bellydance classes that I will be teaching soon, reading, watching a Netflix movie in entirety in one sitting (generally this takes several days or one week for me to complete a film), and a little blogging. In addition, I was able to do some crafts with material I gathered from the beach.
In the past I wanted my weekends to be “fun” and worthy of catch up stories to my friends and co-workers. But there is value in life being enriched with doing nothing. With crating crafts or simply engaging in your favorite hobbies, or even resting. There is no prize for who has the most unique plans or most busy weekend. There’s joy in simple satisfaction and contentment, even if it involves simply going to the local beach with my 15 year old dog to walk barefoot in the sand and watch the waves and the local surfers.
As John Lennon once said, “life is what happens when you are busy making plans.”
C’est la vie, this is life.
It Only Takes A Smile 