Exploring boredom

Most players hit a few balls and are ready to start a match.  They say ‘just’ hitting balls is boring and playing a match, with the challenges and potential rewards that it provides, pumps the adrenaline, and gets the juices flowing.  The lack of interest in the process of simply hitting balls ‘creates’  a state of boredom and stimulation is required in the form of match play where there is the possibility of winning, but also the risk of losing.  It would seem logical to the rational mind that if one is bored one should seek out its opposite, which would be stimulation.  On some level this strategy seems to be successful; boredom often does disappear when stimulation is introduced, at least for a short while.  However this preoccupation with winning ultimately takes the player to the other end of the spectrum and the result is often not pretty and almost always creates an obstacle to peak performance.

There are other players, who enjoy practicing and hitting balls, but avoid the ‘pressures’  of competitive play because that experience is painfully unpleasant.  The stimulation has become excessive; so much is riding on the outcome (real or imagined) of the match that the result becomes the primary focus.  For these players, it is more ‘fun’ to simply hit balls and avoid competition altogether.  However, the problem is not in what they do, but why they do it.  Their desire to just hit balls is fear-based and not out of an intrinsic appreciation of hitting the ball.  The intention affects the experience.

What is the solution?  How can we find the balance between the two extremes of boredom and over-stimulation?  The key is to start thinking outside the box.  It seems logical to the rational mind to seek and provide stimulation when boredom arises, but this is in fact a ‘mistake’.  It embroils us in this never-ending roller coaster between these two, apparent, polar opposites.  This is because the root cause of boredom remains unexamined and it is therefore destined to return again and again and the interjection of stimulation from time to time only provides temporary relief.  The boredom is always present, albeit, in a dormant form even when we are engaged in an activity.  Ultimately, the distractions become so stimulating that we reach the other end of the spectrum, when the stimulation becomes extremely stressful, while the balance we seek remains elusive.  What is the alternative?  Is there one?

For most players, it is practice that is boring and match play that becomes highly stimulating.  Ideally, there should be no shift in mindset between practice and match-play.  The intensity and commitment we bring to the court should remain constant regardless if we are hitting balls with a friend or playing a tournament match.  This can only happen if we see the intrinsic value of playing tennis, if on the other hand, we are simply playing for ego-gratification and extrinsic rewards than obviously practice will not demand the intensity that match-play does. 

Often, relaxation happens in practice because the situation is perceived as non-threatening to the ego.  The ego cannot be built or damaged in practice because it does not really ‘count’, nothing is at stake.  In reality, practice is crucial because that is our laboratory where the game is developed and fine tuned.  Nothing is more important.

During match-play, the reverse is true; great intensity arises because now something is at stake.  However, this is where one can relax because match-play is primarily about execution.  We know how to play and what we want to do and match-play gives us an opportunity to do that which we already know how to do.  Precise execution happens when one is calm, centered and relaxed.

So how do solve this ‘problem’ of boredom?  The key is to enter the boredom.  Experiment by playfully exploring this ‘feeling’ of boredom without judgment?  We need to put aside all our preconceived ideas of what we think boredom is and whether we like it or not.  Instead, if we can simply bring a ‘beginner’s mind’ to our experience of it, the journey of transcendence begins.  After all, boredom is the reality of our experience and it would surely be more feasible to start our journey of exploration from where we are rather than from some mind-imposed ideal (that boredom is bad and to be avoided) of where we ‘should ’ be. 

The first assumption to be explored is the thought that boredom lies in a particular activity or the lack of activity, either way, the understanding is that boredom is out there somewhere and it has somehow gripped us; that we are helpless victims.  Is this true?  Is boredom intrinsic to an activity or a situation, or a function of the individual?  Where does boredom really lie? 

For some people, chess may be a boring game, while the same game for others is extremely interesting.  Consequently, boredom, in this (and every) scenario, it would seem, is not in the nature of the game of chess, if it were, everyone exposed to it would become bored.  If it is not in the game, where else can the boredom be?  It must be in the individual and this is true of every emotion we feel: happiness, sadness, anger, joy, love, frustration, pressure, excitement, etc.  We cause all these emotions!

What then, do we have to ‘do’ to ‘eliminate’ boredom?  By simply understanding the existential experience of boredom through being alert and aware, things will begin to move.  This boredom that we feel is manufactured by our restless mind.  The deeper we look, the less we will see; until we look at boredom so deeply, we may discover that there is no such phenomenon as boredom.  The ‘problem’ has not been solved it has simply disappeared.  Boredom arose because we were not there, as soon as we are present and alert to the moment, there is no boredom.

The boredom is there because we have lost the joy of hitting a ball; we have forgotten why we first started playing this game.  This is especially true for competitive tournament players of all levels who have become so obsessed with the winning, rankings and improvement that the simple joys of moving, hitting and competing have completely disappeared.  As we begin to appreciate more the intricacies inherent to the actual playing, our sensitivity grows and this is what it means to be present.  If we find the process of playing fun and interesting, we will never have to be reminded to ‘watch the ball’ and our joy for the game will be matched only by our ability to play to our full potential, what ever that may be.……what else can we do?

We may find that boredom is simply a function of not being present.  It is hard to be present when there is no interest in the present.  We are only interested in the goal, which is obviously in the future; so what is the point of being present to the process.  This realization, if it becomes our own, can dramatically transform our competitive experience and maybe even our entire life.