Boredom is Not Your Enemy

Jennifer Li

November 24, 2024

The MVP of Inside Out 2 was neither Anxiety, Joy, nor Riley. When I left the theater, the character that occupied my mind was Ennui: the posh, purple, French addition to the prequel’s five emotions. As her namesake suggests, Ennui embodies all things boredom, spending most of the film lounging listlessly on her phone and occasionally chiming in with an irritated comment. She was comedic, insufferable, and—despite her hyperbolic portrayal—painfully realistic. 

Social media “rot” has risen to the zenith of modern concerns. Whenever unoccupied, I default to opening Instagram or Snapchat on my phone to “cure the boredom.” Yet, the stimulation seems to incur further listlessness rather than resolve it. It forces me to wonder: why am I unable to sit with myself? When did I grow so scared of something so benign as boredom?

My childhood summers were spent gazing out the window, swinging on a playground, or scribbling gibberish with gaudy Crayola markers. I associate these activities with an overwhelming simplicity, and, dare I say, monotony. Yet, I hardly remember them as “boring.” My memory coats those days in a golden haze and their appeal seems to lie in none other than their simple nature. While I performed these mindless activities, my mind wandered, daydreaming about dinner and narrating princess stories. I was perfectly content. 

That feeling, however, has become as intangible as those summer afternoons. I can’t remember the last time I sat in silence with unbusied hands. As this school year churns ceaselessly along, my already-impaired relationship with time has intensified. Ticks populate my to-do list, while the hours slip silently away behind my “White Noise 10 Hours” playlist. I feel like Sisyphus, mounting a burden of tasks each day only for dawn to renew them. In this fight against the swing of the clock and the click of its gears, I have become a maestro of commodifying my time, to the point where even mealtimes are portioned. Afterall, “time is money,” right? 

My screen time, though, humbly disrupts the illusion that I “have no time” for so-called unproductive matters. Indeed, shreds of free time exist between tasks and events. However, during these empty minutes, I, like many others, simply default to picking up my phone. Instagram has a ready tunnel of reels and stories. Gmail screams with unopened messages. Chrome sucks me back into forgotten tabs. One minute turns to five minutes, and what was supposed to be a quick glance at the clock evolves into a gradual confusion of loud colors and sounds that swarm my brain. These simulations create a sort of staticity, chaos that becomes white noise, leaving me even more bored than before.

Here I beg that we redefine boredom. Personally, I separate the boredom I feel into two categories: passive and active boredom. Active boredom involves a clear goal in mind. For example, when we sit through a dull task, we focus on completing it. Ennui’s character epitomizes the pitfalls of passive boredom, as we seek to drown its dreariness with technological filler. Passive boredom, however, poses no intent, thus allowing our minds to wander. To achieve this state, I have recently intentionally folded laundry without turning on a TV show, ran without music, and taken study breaks without social media. Though challenging at first, I have found a degree of beauty in the peace; these morsels of time have allowed me to reflect upon my day, reminiscent of meditation. Science, too, supports passive boredom, as studies show how mind-wandering links to improvement in creativity, imagination, and focus.

As a generation we too often shun discomfort. We cannot bear those awkward, empty minutes between tasks, monotonous lectures, or the humdrum of waiting in line. So, we mute these moments with stimulation. There is an art, however, in embracing the ennui. I do not suggest that all boredom is good; studies have linked long-term boredom with depression and an overall lack of fulfillment. Plus, the world would do with less indifferent characters like Ennui. However, we should learn to distinguish active boredom from passive boredom and try to convert the former into the latter. Once you reframe boredom as a mental exercise – a rare opportunity for your mind to wander – you’ll realize that it is bearable, and perhaps even enjoyable.