My husband and I recently visited Montreal and spent a lot of time crisscrossing under the city on the Montreal Metro to explore different sites. I was delighted because public transportation feels like some sort of social experiment to me. How else would you get to observe such an eclectic assortment of humans?
With each day that passed though, I became increasingly aware of an alarming pattern — the younger the passengers, the more likely they were to be completely unengaged in life happening around them.
As each one picked up their phone or popped in their Airpods, it’s like they were sucked into a portal and transformed into a zombie right before my eyes. I would stare down the length of the train, and the only eyes that were looking back at me were those with soft lines and gray hair framing them. I am afraid that younger generations are becoming incapable of tolerating boredom.
I identified this pattern in others because I had already been observing it in myself. This trip fell in the middle of a 40-day challenge I had started to practice tolerating boredom — any time I was in the car by myself, I turned off the radio/podcasts and drove in silence.
Every day, the first two minutes in that noiseless vacuum were nearly unbearable. The sound of my own breath and every rattle in my car felt like sandpaper under my skin. More than anything, the fear of frustration made me long for some form of entertainment to pacify my chaotic thoughts. But, if I could just endure those first two minutes, then eventually I learned to surrender to the silence and find peace in that quiet space.
At this point, I’m sure you’re wondering: “Why does it matter if I can tolerate boredom?” It matters because we are losing our connection with ourselves and others. When we seek the temporary relief of stimulation, we sever the connection between our head and our heart, and we miss out on the magic of small interactions with the people around us.
We’re afraid that the discomfort of silence will suffocate us, but I think the opposite is actually true. The constant consumption of other people’s thoughts/words/videos is what’s choking out the tiny voice inside of us. Yes, everyone deserves a mindless escape occasionally. But if your whole life is becoming a mindless escape, then it may be time to reconnect with that tiny voice.
If you’re not ready to look at your own habits yet, then just start by looking around the next time you’re in a public space. Observe the way people become zombie-like when they pick up their phone, immediately engulfed in a bubble of numbness.
Pay attention though, because often it’s easier to recognize in others what we are too afraid to see in ourselves.
