Cultivating Stillness

I was speaking to a client the other day, and they shared how surprised they were that a moment of boredom sparked the desire to create something.

“Boredom” carries such a negative connotation in our society. A kind of primal panic sets in when we experience it. If you’re bored, something must be wrong. We rush to fill that space with tasks and distractions — anything to avoid that unsettling quiet.

But what happens when we stay?
What’s on the other side of that discomfort?

I’ve come to believe that boredom is actually an important moment of stillness — one that allows creativity to ignite.

In The Creative Act, Rick Rubin offers the idea that we are all creatives.

What was your reaction when you read that?
I’m not creative.
I don’t know what to create.
I don’t know how.

What would it mean to “create” a moment of stillness?

Not a formal meditation. Not a breathing app.
Just… nothing.

What comes up when you sit through the panic? When you allow the list to wait, just for a moment?

I love this passage from the “Look Inward” chapter of The Creative Act:

The sound of water churning in the distance is audible.
I feel a breeze of what might be warm air, though it’s difficult to tell,
since my arm hair senses the movement as cooling.
Two birds are singing and, with my eyes closed,
I’m placing them approximately fifty paces behind me and to my right.

That’s what it means to notice — to let presence expand, instead of trying to fill the space.

What if this stillness is where the spark lives?