Summer boredom, dreaded by parents, kids, blocked-writers, and many folks not currently starving or stalked…is an unexpected pleasure.

Boredom comes when it does.  Often slowly and from deep inside, as the outside pulsates less with distraction, difficulty or delight.  And the conscious stream seems painfully empty.

Oh, to run, to scream, to whimper in objection.

Then to flee, to immerse or inject delight, distraction, or even difficulty into the body, the blood, the mind-stream that was painfully void. To know that precious relief, and rush back to the chaos of our busy, busy minds. Too busy.  Too mindless.

But instead, to linger-dare, in the gaps called boredom, yielding slowly into a kingdom quiet and of the deepest imagination, reflection and gentle noticing of this precious life.

From my porch in Cambrian Park.

Dr. Bob