Between the Bored and Me
I'd say I've finally gotten to a place in my life, a place to which so many have arrived before me, when I'm not surprised by anything.
I'm an optimist, but I find that I generally lack enthusiasm for things. I recently relocated to a new area of the country, and people, upon learning this, have suggestions for me. "Oh, you know what you have to try?" I try to be polite with them, but I'm not going to try any of these things.
Yes, I remember being 23, and all things seemed novel. "Whoa! BBQ sauce, chicken, and cilantro on a pizza? That's gotta be amazing! I gotta try that!" I'm 34 now, and I eat because if I didn't, I would die a slow and painful death. That's the only reason. I can think of fewer conversations more boring than those that happen when a group of people is trying to decide where to eat. I don't care. Give me some apples and let's be done with it.
This extends to just about every area of my life. I've been skydiving, hiking, surfing, paddleboarding, and kayaking. I've dated. I've traveled to other countries, where, as you might expect, people are about the same as they are in here in the United States. Food is food. Sex is sex. Work is work. Sleep is sleep. Perhaps King Solomon summarized this better than I can: "There is nothing new under the sun."
I suspect this is just a passing phase, but it's kind of inconvenient be caught in a lengthy phase like this in your mid-30's, at a time when you're starting to develop real anxiety about your life "passing you by". You clutch at meaning only to come up with meaninglessness. You want your actions to amount to something, but nothing really sticks to the world. I'm beginning to think there's a liberating and life-affirming sense of joy hidden in this feeling that I just haven't gotten my head fully around.
People always say "time will tell". That's a lie. Time doesn't tell you anything. It just gives you the space to figure out what your own interpretation of it might be.
I'm an optimist, but I find that I generally lack enthusiasm for things. I recently relocated to a new area of the country, and people, upon learning this, have suggestions for me. "Oh, you know what you have to try?" I try to be polite with them, but I'm not going to try any of these things.
Yes, I remember being 23, and all things seemed novel. "Whoa! BBQ sauce, chicken, and cilantro on a pizza? That's gotta be amazing! I gotta try that!" I'm 34 now, and I eat because if I didn't, I would die a slow and painful death. That's the only reason. I can think of fewer conversations more boring than those that happen when a group of people is trying to decide where to eat. I don't care. Give me some apples and let's be done with it.
This extends to just about every area of my life. I've been skydiving, hiking, surfing, paddleboarding, and kayaking. I've dated. I've traveled to other countries, where, as you might expect, people are about the same as they are in here in the United States. Food is food. Sex is sex. Work is work. Sleep is sleep. Perhaps King Solomon summarized this better than I can: "There is nothing new under the sun."
I suspect this is just a passing phase, but it's kind of inconvenient be caught in a lengthy phase like this in your mid-30's, at a time when you're starting to develop real anxiety about your life "passing you by". You clutch at meaning only to come up with meaninglessness. You want your actions to amount to something, but nothing really sticks to the world. I'm beginning to think there's a liberating and life-affirming sense of joy hidden in this feeling that I just haven't gotten my head fully around.
People always say "time will tell". That's a lie. Time doesn't tell you anything. It just gives you the space to figure out what your own interpretation of it might be.