Boredom

I am bored. Not because I have nothing to do, but because I am not excited about what I am doing, or about doing something else, or about something someone else is doing.

I reference my favorite source – the dictionary on my computer. Bored – “feeling weary because one is unoccupied or lacks interest in one's current activity.” Hmmm. Weary? Again, I reference my favorite source. Weary – “feeling or showing tiredness, especially as a result of excessive exertion or lack of sleep.” Hmmm. Could it be that the term BORED is an oxymoron – a contradiction within itself? So, while I arose this morning after a good nine hours of sleep, and spent my day sitting at my desk typing (certainly, not what I would call an overly exerting activity), I am indeed tired.

Meanwhile, down the road, my father completes six weeks of radiation and poisonous chemicals pummeling his body. The doctors are pleased with their assault on the spot of my father’s brain. The growth is smaller and the inflammation reduced. Yet, today my father finds it difficult to remain awake for longer than a few minutes, much less the exertion to walk from his lazy chair to the bathroom. For almost two months, my father remains fully occupied with his healing process. And, while certainly not bored, he is indeed tired.

My father is given a month reprieve from treatment. I pray that his energy will return soon, as the doctors predict, so that he may enjoy a few days on the beach. And I take a few minutes to find the humor in my own contradictions and practice gratitude for a little boredom.