Boredom

"If you're bored it means you're bored with yourself."

I'm not sure who first told me that but as I looked down at the nurse shark finning through rippling blue water I thought of the guests on board. On our passage from Nassau they started asking us what kind of shopping there would be, what kind of things there were to do. As we approached the island the bare green hills dispelled any notions of malls full of duty free brands or amusement parks with dolphin pools. We pulled up to the dock, past the fish cleaning station situated at the end of the wooden pier, close to the empty palm tree studded beach.

The guests nearly leaped onto to dock before we were tied up eager to DO something.
An half hour later some of them trudged back onto to boat, ordering stiff drinks as they crossed through the salon.
"How did the island adventure go?" I offered.
"Terrible! There's nowhere to go. They're doing construction on the dock and we had to walk over planks and then the path is awful and there's nothing here!"
They collapsed into the squishy leather chairs and sipped their cocktails.
"Hmmm. That's too bad." I said, staring out at the catamarans anchored off the pristine shoreline.
On my short break I walked to the end of the dock and peered over at the nurse and reef sharks milling about, waiting for a handful of fishguts, maybe an eyeball or two, to be thrown from the cleaning table above. I sat on the copper topped piling, gazing down into the water I so badly wanted to be swimming in too. How could someone be bored here? I could stare at the sharks for hours then move on to combing the white sand beach of seashells, perhaps wander over the shrub covered hill to find another beach to explore. Swim in the water, chat with the fishermen, chase after iguanas... the list goes on and on. Even plopping down on the end of the dock and reading a good book. Bored? I rarely use the word. I actually think I sometimes feel more bored when I'm connected with technology that is supposed to keep me distracted, keep me from getting bored. I whip out my IPhone if I'm waiting in line or (caught) stopped at a red light or think of something I just have to have the answer to as I stand on the curb waiting for the walk sign. Instead of just being with my mind and letting it wander- which I don't qualify as bored, I call it day dreaming, planning, noticing. Instead I think I need to check my email or stocks or temperature even though I'm standing outside wearing a hoodie while not expecting an important communication and I'm not selling my stock anyway so who cares? Grasping onto frivolous distractions breeds a sense of boredom far faster than staring at a sunset or watching dolphins play in bow waves or even sitting in silence with a good friend.

So sitting on a piling in the Bahamas without a technological gadget in my hand, I am happy. And not bored.

The next morning the group goes for a golf cart ride. At lunch they tell the captain they don't want to leave the little sparsely populated island.
"We could just sit here all day while the boat rocks us. Or go explore more. Did you see the bus stop with the skeleton? Or the spring? We don't want to go back to Nassau quite yet." After an evening of lounging, imbibing, eating, talking, and then a leisurely tour around a remote island, they had settled into the rhythm of boating. Of just being.
I hate to say it, but some of those Jimmy Buffet songs ring true.

They didn't talk of "nothing to do" again. They did more eating and drinking, laughing and talking, exploring and enjoying. Not being bored doesn't have to equal accomplishing something- shopping, seeing sights, checking something off that ever present list to tell your friends at home about.

When I get an inkling that a perceived bout of boredom is setting in, I know I either need to look up, look around, notice or look inside, look deeper, notice.

I bet the sharks are never bored. And they don't even have Iphones to tempt them or on which to look up the definition of "boredom." Lucky fish.