Slowing things down, counterintuitively, makes things less boring
Over the last week or so we’ve noticed that our fridge hasn’t been keeping food cold. It’s been a mad dash to eat up as much of the food in there as possible before it spoils. One of my wife’s coworkers told her that most likely just thawing out the fridge overnight would fix the issue.
Tonight, I worked on moving as much as possible to the freezer, or cooking it up. Hard boiled eggs, some frozen chicken tenders, some tortellini. I had a bunch of food on the table needing to be cooked, I had already pulled the fridge out and noticed a whole bunch of dust and kids toys that had rolled underneath. My wife was working on getting the kids ready for bed, but they still needed to be fed.
As I started at the situation in the moment, I wasn’t really excited to jump right in. I knew that between that moment, and the moment where everything was all taken care of, it would be couple of hours. I felt overwhelmed a bit by all the work, and in one of those moods where you say “why do I have to deal with a broken fridge right now?”
At this point, there seems to be two basic impulses, rush to get everything done, or sort of similarly, just do it, and maybe put on some music to keep yourself motivated. Either way, it’s like you don’t really want to do it.
Instead of resorting to the those two modes, I chose a third option, which was to slow down. As I moved dishes from the sink to the dishwasher, I turned my body super slow. It could have looked weird from the outside, but there are ways to cover this up when needed, but in many cases you don’t need to, or want to. The worst judgment someone might fling at you is to say “Wow, that person is doing something really carefully.” And, honestly, that’s sort of what we’re doing.
When you slow down, whether it’s for something you don’t really want to do, or even if it’s with something you’re super excited to be doing, it means you’re being more careful, more aware. It lets you tune in to the finer details. It also lets you see through the experience itself to see it’s emptiness. And that’s a great antidote to boredom and dread.