Today my internet service wasn’t working.
Unlike an average Saturday I was unable to spend the day catching up on YouTube, browsing Twitter feeds of like-minded thinkers or binging the newest must-watch Netflix series. I instead fell into an unfamiliar feeling of boredom, and was better off for it.
Far from a Luddite, I believe technology, the internet and the rise of social media is on the whole a good thing. But the quantity and quality of content and thought can be paralyzing. Gobbling down high quality thought pieces in the Atlantic, or explainer videos from Crash Course or must see golden age television can feel like an accomplishment, especially when you can share it, can discuss it, and be on the winning end of “Oh my God you haven’t seen X?”
But today I was cut off from the content Borg, left only with my immediate surroundings. I instead had to wrestle with my own thoughts, my own ambitions, my own dissatisfactions. Should I read a book? Should I do some cleaning? Should I write a stupid little thought piece?
With the loss of easy entertainment and false accomplishment, boredom gives you a choice: would you rather do something productive, or nothing at all? As a lifelong procrastinator it was nice to spend a day contributing to my own small life and thoughts than consuming from the vast network of others’.