The Wonders of Boredom

Several weeks ago our amazing principal wrote an impassioned and persuasive letter to parents, begging them to let their kids be bored sometimes. She was not praising lack of stimulation, or recommending that you lock them in a room with no windows or doors. But she was attempting to counter the prevailing wisdom, at least in Los Angeles, that more activities are better.

And small children do a lot of activities. Sometimes when I ask other mothers for playdates, their mothers say things like, "Yes, Omeed would love to come over and play with Theo, except he has after school every day and enrichment classes twice a week and organized sports on the weekends." That does not even take into account that kindergarteners are now in school as long as first graders and every one else, and that my six year old has a half hour to 45 minutes of real homework every night.

So I do not enroll my son in so many activities--out of my own laziness. I am definitely on the less active end of the Mommy spectrum. Theo does swimming on Mondays, and a circus class on Tuesdays. Sometimes he does gardening with me. The rest of the week we make up as we go along. And sometimes I feel guilty. All of his friends do more. They do T-ball and ballet and gymnastics and science classes and instruments and tutoring and soccer and art. They do more than I did as a senior in High School--and I was really really really active. Too active.

But this is not always good, said Kristin, our principal. (I will ask if I can excerpt her essay here--I will not do it justice). But she argued, very persuasively, that it is good for children to be bored, because that is when they learn how to entertain themselves, how to motivate themselves, how to play and imagine and be alone. That is when they really get creative.

So I have been trying to leave more time for boredom. (I am not ignoring my children, I am helping them, I tell myself!) And I have seen some things. If I schedule less, am around more, don't turn on the television, but don't always engage, this is what I notice. Theo draws more, all on his own. He will pick up books and try to read them all on his own. He will build and play more. My younger son will go off and do puzzles all on his own, or build entire kingdoms. Sometimes I walk in and Theo is just staring at the ceiling, at nothing.

It is not that they did not do this before. But they seem to be more comfortable doing it. And they are on their own, figuring out what makes them tick.

And I have come to think that perhaps they are digesting. They are learning so much, so fast, I think it is quite hard to conceive of as an adult. I think sometimes their brains just need to rest, with no more inputs. I think maybe that is where the real learning takes place--between the classes and activities--when they are quietly staring into space or singing to themselves in the corner.

Right now, as i self-indulgently blog away, my three-year-old is talking to himself and assembling eight puzzles all on his own. He wanted me to do it with him. But the truth is, he is so much more proud that he has done them himself.

And now he knows he can do it. All on his own. And isn't that what life is all about?