Novelty Treats

November 14th, 2023

“Are you bored?” a co-worker asked me the other day during a brief moment of inaction.

“Oh, I’m never bored,” I said, as I often say.

I explained that my head is always playing thoughts that excite me: developing stories and evolving characters and creating brand new worlds.

But this is only part of the answer.

In a culture where everybody is trying to find ways to add literal years to their lives, I actively slow down the time I already have.

We wonder why, as we age, time feels like it’s speeding up, and one of the reasons is relatively simple: novelty.

When we’re young, everything is new, encounters totally unpredictable, and that novelty inspires our attention in a way that causes us to slow down, carefully observe, and examine with curiosity.

Time feels more solid because we’re more invested in it. Our childhoods feel like entire lives as a result.

As we get older, many of us find ourselves in routines, which — if we no longer pay that same close attention — feel like living different days that play out the same. That’s why they seem to blur together; it’s like we’re staring out a car window without trying to identify any of the individual trees that pass us by.

When this idea is recognized, some jump to the conclusion that in order to live a fuller life, it has to be all-new, all the time. These people think constant moving and travel is the answer.

But what if I told you that you could discover just as many new things in the town you grew up in than you could in a city you’ve never been to halfway across the world? We think we know it all because most of us haven’t studied it well.

What you discover isn’t totally up to the world around you; the world needs you to interact with it. Like Alain de Bottom (who, like my monk book, inspired this essay) says: we can see our familiar world with new eyes.

You could ask someone you’ve known your whole life questions you’ve never asked them before. (I’m a little notorious for asking people big, weird questions.) You could act like you’re visiting the place you live.

You could take a walk in a neighborhood that is unfamiliar to you. You could take a walk in a familiar neighborhood, but actively take in the sights, sounds, and smells around you, which change daily, but only if you’re paying attention.

You could take in a flower like you’ve never seen a flower before.

This is what artists do, and anybody can live like an artist, regardless of their jobs or skills or money they have (or, like most of us, don’t have).

And this is the secret to slowing down our time, making it more dense, valuable, remembering more of the spare handful life that we’re alotted. Wise people say “be present,” and, sure, that’s what I’m saying, too, but I’m also saying something more.

Be observant. Be curious. Think about and listen to everything and everyone. Create novelty in your own life.

And never be bored again.