The Quiet Gift of Boredom
In a fast and noisy world, a little boredom might be exactly what we need to hear ourselves think again.
“A bit of boredom is good for the soul.”
– Mary R (13-04-2025)
Summary
Mary R reminds us that boredom isn’t a problem—it’s a chance to slow down, clear our heads, and feel something real again. Her thoughts sit naturally alongside recent reflections on how silence and small pauses can gently steer us back into our creative rhythm.
Explanation
This line appears near the heart of Mary R’s thoughtful piece It’s Good You’re Bored at the Symphony, Actually. She’s just described what it’s like to sit through a long classical concert—three hours of music, no phones, no big light shows or thumping bass. Just music and stillness. And sometimes, yes, you drift. You fidget. You start thinking about things you didn’t know were on your mind.
But instead of seeing this as a fault, she sees it as something rare and valuable. That quiet space where nothing much is happening? That’s where your mind finally has room to move. You start noticing things. You hear the music in a different way. You might even hear yourself more clearly.
This idea flows easily into The Rain Between the Lines, our recent reflection inspired by Bernadette Jiwa’s Listening To Rain. That piece looks at how silence, self-trust, and small everyday rituals can help you find your way back to creativity—not by forcing it, but by making space for it. Like Mary’s essay, it suggests that slowing down and stepping back isn’t laziness. It’s part of the process.
Both essays remind us that we don’t always need to be busy or switched on. Sometimes, doing nothing much is how the good stuff starts to rise to the surface. You just need enough quiet to hear it.
After Afterthought: Within the Sound of Silence
"And the vision that was planted in my brain / Still remains / Within the sound of silence."
– The Sound of Silence, written by Paul Simon
In a world where noise is constant and silence is rare, this line feels more relevant than ever. The song—first released by Simon & Garfunkel in 1964—speaks to the loneliness and disconnection beneath all our surface chatter. It’s a quiet anthem for those who find meaning not in loud declarations, but in what happens when everything else goes quiet.
In the RocKwiz performance by Emma Louise and Husky Gawenda, there’s an aching gentleness that reflects the stillness Mary R describes in the concert hall. Once you move past Julia Zemiro’s lively introduction and closing—a contrast that makes the quiet even more striking—the song becomes a soft, spacious moment. It resonates with the sense of reset found in The Rain Between the Lines, itself inspired by Bernadette Jiwa’s Listening To Rain. Each voice—Mary, Emma, Bernadette—invites us into a different kind of silence: the kind that listens, not just waits to speak.
This isn’t silence as absence. It’s silence as presence. A place where something begins.
About Mary R
Mary R is a classically trained singer and thoughtful writer who brings warmth and honesty to her reflections on music, performance, and modern life. Her work often invites readers to stop, take a breath, and see boredom—not as something to fix, but something to welcome. A little stillness, she reminds us, can go a long way.
About Emma Louise & Husky Gawenda
Emma Louise is an Australian singer-songwriter known for her airy, introspective style, while Husky Gawenda, frontman of Melbourne indie-folk band Husky, brings a quiet warmth and lyrical depth to his music. In their RocKwiz duet of The Sound of Silence, their voices blend gently, creating a version that feels both intimate and timeless—perfectly echoing the stillness and space explored in this post.