The forgotten value of boredom

Reading time: 7 minutes

Author: Christina Rohde (learn more) 

📖 Lies diesen Artikel auf Deutsch → Der vergessene Wert der Langeweile

What we call boredom
Can you remember the last time you did absolutely nothing? Really - nothing. Not on your smartphone, not eating, not even listening to music.

For many of us, this question is hard to answer. Not because we didn’t have time to do nothing. But because most of us have forgotten how to allow ourselves to “do nothing” at all. The absolute avoidance of doing nothing is highly valued in our society - just like the undeservedly bad image of boredom. Somehow it sounds passive, uncreative, and like a complete waste of time. And who likes that?

But it’s not quite that simple.

The illusion of distraction
Today, we have endless ways to avoid boredom: whether it’s the smartphone that tempts us to shop, chat, or just scroll; music or podcasts that can fill the silence at any moment; or social media, which makes us feel like we’re among people even though we’re sitting alone in our room. Whenever a quiet moment arises, we immediately fill it with stimuli.

Distraction often feels good in the moment. It’s comfortable. It might even make us laugh for a moment. But who hasn’t experienced that feeling of somehow feeling strangely empty afterward - or looking back on the past few months and asking ourselves: What have I actually been doing all this time?

The fact that such questions arise is no coincidence, but rather a natural wake-up call from our subconscious.

Distraction - no matter what form it takes - means temporarily stepping away from our own reality. We look away, stop listening, and fail to perceive the moment for what it truly is right now. That isn’t wrong in and of itself - but it isn’t right either. Because even if it sounds like a well-deserved break at first, it actually causes us to lose even more energy. Not because we aren’t accomplishing anything, but because we’re distancing ourselves from what’s really happening inside us right now: our thoughts, our feelings, our experience in this moment.

We can’t recharge our energy if we are standing next to ourselves. Nor can we find peace if we’re constantly bombarding ourselves with stimuli.

What happens when we stop running away
This brings us back to our starting point: boredom. It’s often the first feeling that arises when we stop distracting ourselves. It can feel uncomfortable, almost unbearable. But the reason isn’t so much the boredom itself as the state lying behind it.

Let’s break down the word in German: Langeweile means “long while” - that is, time that feels long.

Let’s imagine a scenario where we’re currently stressed, frustrated, or lacking motivation - and now add “time that feels like it’s dragging on.” What happens inside us? At first, it feels as though we’re prolonging our suffering. Because we’re more acutely aware of the moment, and time simply isn’t “flying by” - as it often does when we distract ourselves.

Our mistake in thinking
Our impulse to avoid boredom is therefore more than understandable. And yet, in the long run, it’s hardly something that helps us move forward constructively. Because the solution to suffering and stress doesn’t lie in temporarily distancing ourselves, only to sink even deeper into it afterward. The solution lies in confronting ourselves:

To understand why we feel the way we do. To see what we need to live more fulfilling lives. To discover what options we have to change our situation. To explore which thoughts and feelings we’re actually carrying around with us all the time. And above all: to let go.

The gift of boredom
Life is short. Time that feels long is an absolute gift - and we should allow ourselves to accept it, even if it feels unfamiliar at first. For no other state brings us so fully into the here and now and gives us more time than boredom.

If we give it space, something interesting happens: The impulses mentioned above - our own attempts to find something that does us good - find their way all on their own. Because when nothing is happening around us, the urge to act comes from within ourselves. And not from external stimuli. We don’t always understand these impulses right away. But we don’t have to.

Maybe we suddenly feel the urge to dig out an old book. Or it suddenly occurs to us that we’ve wanted to redecorate our living room for ages. Or we remember moments we’d love to experience again. Maybe we just start singing - because we don’t want silence right now and only have ourselves as a solution.

In short: boredom awakens our creativity. And our creativity, no matter how small or large it may be, is always closely linked to what brings us joy - and what fulfills us. So what could be better for us in moments of stress or frustration than to first - allow ourselves to be bored?
 

Conclusion
As much as we might want to label boredom as something negative, it’s not quite that simple. It’s not a state of deprivation, but rather the first step toward our own unique creativity and joy. And a nice side effect is that it actually helps us improve our ability to concentrate. Because we finally stick with one thing - our own thing. The one that is right for us right now, at this very moment, in this very place. This is good not only in the here and now, but also in the long run: because this is how we learn to be attuned to ourselves again - and to experience our lives as more fulfilling, even in retrospect.

Some ideas and thoughts
We’re so conditioned to avoid boredom that it can sometimes be a real challenge to face it again. We might not even realize when the right moment has come to let it in. Here are a few questions and prompts that might help you rediscover boredom:

• When and where do I typically distract myself? (While waiting, while falling asleep...?)
• What could remind me to pause just before reaching for my phone? (A big “Stop” sign on a wall...?)
• Digging a little deeper: Do I know what I’m running away from right now - and do I really want to?
• A quick challenge: Can I manage to just sit in a room for ten minutes and do nothing?
• Remember: What great ideas did I have as a child when I was bored?

Silence is rarely truly empty - rather, it is a space full of possibilities that life gives us.