Member Rara Avis
Bored? I'd have to guess I've been bored at one time or another in fifty years, but if so, I've long since forgotten those incidents.
One of my earliest and most poignant memories happened when I was about four years old. Like many children at that age, I was learning how to count beyond my own fingers and toes, through the simple but time-tested expedient of memorization. I remember being on my belly on the living room floor, writing my numbers, the tip of my tongue curled over my upper lip (a habit I didn't break until I was at least sixteen). I even remember it was Louisiana, not Michigan. Every few minutes, I would jump up and run into the kitchen, where all the adults were gathered in conversation at the table, to cajole a few more numbers out of someone. Then I would rush back to my pencil and paper to write them down.
I sure didn't know what an epiphany was at four, but I was nonetheless about to have one. As I wrote down 90, 91, 92 and 93, something clicked and I suddenly saw THE pattern and absolutely knew, without asking anyone, that the next number just had to be 94. I could never explain to anyone, then or since, exactly how that Eureka moment felt. The sense of "rightness" simply defies description. When I reached 100 and kept going, I remember the anticipation of knowing that the pattern MUST eventually lead to 1000 and beyond. I don't remember how many numbers I wrote down after I discovered the pattern, but I do recall my mother had to almost pry that pencil from my fingers to get me into bed.
I've spent most of my life, I think, chasing that same feeling, trying to discover again and again that incredible sense of rightness in our world. I guess that quest just hasn't left much time for being bored.