Cheating Boredom
by Howard Slacum
Howard Slacum
The best way to pass an unexpected test is to copy someone.
Sometimes.
For the past couple of weeks, I have been in an almost persistent state of inexplicable agitation. Failing to understand something—like why I am agitated—agitates me. I understand why my dog chases his tail. We both think we should be able to catch ourselves.
I look at my life. I have recently taken a rewarding promotion, I have a good apartment and a great pooch. In the past couple of weeks, I have sharply improved my work-life balance and am enjoying friends. My life is at an all-time high.
Logically, I know that I *should* be feeling good—but I’m agitated. There’s an increasingly worn circle of carpet about the width of my feet. My dog has paused from chasing his tail and is looking at me. His head is cocked to the left.
It’s Thursday evening. Friday will be a light day at work, I’ve made plans to visit with a dear friend tomorrow and I’m visiting family this weekend. I’ve just watched one of my favorite tv shows and had dinner. And the agitation is settling in….
A friend text messages me and we shoot the breeze a bit. She mentions she’s about to go walking—something she does every night. I reply that it sounds like a good idea. What I *mean*, is that it sounds like a good idea *for her*. It’s 7:30 PM and still 93 humid degrees. I’ve already broken a sweat walking to the kitchen for my almost 100% fat dinner. I have hunted and gathered for the day. Further sweating is not on my agenda.
About fifteen seconds after I replied to her I sent her another message—I’m going for a walk.
I had neither an epiphinay nor a sudden bout of restless leg syndrome. I was motivated by the same force that compels some students to cheat: I needed to overcome this challenge and I was desperate. And like those misguided students, I resorted to copying from someone who seemed to know what they were doing.
There is no stronger anti-perspirant than my instinct to identify unpleasant, sweat-inducing activities and rationalize avoiding them. In that one aspect of intelligence, my IQ is off the scale (otherwise, it’s lonely at the bottom—but I digress). Knowing how quickly I can convince myself to bail from a sweaty situation, I raced myself to get my shoes on, load up some tunes, grab my pooch and get outside.
Twenty-minutes later, I was on a high that could have justified an FBI raid on my apartment.
Some might think it was simply the endorphins taking me down Giddy Lane. But my regular exercise had not broken me free of agitation. I had held onto my pooch and let go of everything else. I needed to walk without purpose, listen without hearing and look without seeing.
The fresh air and sunshine broke through the gray cubicle walls, recycled air and computer monitor lighting that had become part of almost every conscious hour of my life.
Life gives us pop-tests. Often, the answers are posted on signs along life’s road. But sometimes, hazardous or stressful driving conditions cause us to miss the off-ramp to the solution. We can drive a long way before we realize we are off-course.
In those times when you do not know the answer for which path to take, it can serve you well to cheat. Listen for a whispered answer from someone who seems to know where they’re going or look over their shoulder and see what they’ve learned—then use it for yourself.
Because the real test is that you are open to receive the answer.
© 2008 Howard Slacum
