But You’re Freakin’ Crazy
Before I get to the meaty part of this week’s blog, I wanted to report that I sometimes run the chosen topic by a select group of friends or one particular friend, to get their reaction(s). Today, several people told me that they didn’t understand why I consider myself to be boring. If I’m going to be honest, I think these people who happen to love me, are being kind and/or overly protective. I decided that if this is how I currently perceive myself, then it is my truth.
To be clear, I don’t believe I was always boring, but in fact, I’m very happy to be in my current state of dull, uninteresting, sometimes even anti-social being.
The Dilemma
Lately, I’ve been struggling with whether or not I want to be included in people’s plans. Being that I’m human, of course I’d like to be considered; however, on the other hand, as an introvert, being home in my drama-free, comfortable, quiet place is also desirable and appealing.
Stimulating conversation with intelligent people is quite nice. I learn things from others I may not have known otherwise . . . where to purchase things, restaurants I should consider, extraordinary wines to sample, opinions that make sense; the list is endless.
Why a Delightful Lifestyle for Me, May be Boring to You
I have a jazz club a few streets away from me. They have a Sunday program at a very civilized time slot, 6:00 p.m. I do not ever make plans with friends to go to the Club because I like keeping it open ended. On Sunday afternoon, I check-in with myself and if I’m up for a change of scenery and a bit of music, I walk down to the Club and enjoy the music for as long (or short) as I like. I love the freedom in that.
Lately, I’ve been feeling the same way about short trips away. It’s not that I do not want to be with friends, it’s that I love spontaneity — the ability to pack a bag at the last minute; not many of the people I know would join me (or can join me).
So What Does Boring Look Like
Is old age the cause or just knowing yourself better? You’re not old you say? Well hell, I’m certainly not young. I can ride the train for half price in Portugal.
You already know that I love the quiet hours between 4:15 and 7:00 a.m. It has become my time for refueling and sublime peace — the phone never rings, the park across the street from my apartment is empty (and safe); Paco loves running in the open grassy field, that first cup of coffee is liquid gold, and a few chocolate biscuits or crunchy granola and Greek yogurt, drizzled with amber Portuguese honey, all adds up to my own private nirvana. Is that boring? I suspect some would rather die than welcome the world at that hour; coffee or no coffee. Fortunately, we are not all the same.
Fast forward to dusk, a glass of red and the setting sun out on my terrace. The students who trample on my daylight hours are all gone. The trees in front of my building are filtering the last light of day, the Ria Formosa is glistening diamonds, and a movie is cued-up signaling my eyelids to droop, as I drift in and out of slumber. Boring or contentment? There is a huge difference between being boring and being bored; however, it should be noted that neither is deadly. I have covered the morning and night hours, what happens in between?
I leave the middle part of the day for socializing, knowing that being a hermit is bad for my psychological and emotional well-being. I need interaction with other humans in order to be able to savor the other parts of the day. People keep me centered and nourished; people make me laugh, question my humanity, force me to keep a calendar, and people will be there for me if and when I cannot make it on my own. People in my life are just as important as food and water and Paco and a comfy bed to sleep in. But people need to be reminded of their place now and then, so consider this your reminder. And thank you for being my people.
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I’ll not complain about your boring life, if you just leave me to mine.
Future Travel
Quick few days in Seville, Spain, Asia land & sea, end of October/November, Lyon, France for Christmas, South Africa land & sea in February, and Oslo, Norway July 2024. Finally, a visit to the Puglia region of Italy in the spring of 2025. The United States in 2025 is likely: Brooklyn, Portland, Maine, Maryland, North Carolina and maybe the west coast.
Travel definitely shakes up the routine, allowing me to eat dinner later, visit evening music venues, and sleep a little later in the morning. To be completely honest, sometimes I order in, prop myself up in my hotel’s comfy bed, and just enjoy a night without plans. The nice thing about traveling with a friend is the guilt they place on me — forcing me to experience the city or town I spent all of that time and money traveling to.
Current State-of Mind
I need to come to terms with the anger I feel about mufflerless motorbikes zipping around Faro. Paco jumps every time one of these bikes loudly races past my building. I can deal with so many city sounds, but this insanely loud, teenage boy ego prompted unnecessary noise, truly gets under my skin. I’m trying to think of an equivalent norm from my teen years . . . maybe gangs or souped up sports cars? I don’t recall any of it being as obnoxiously loud. Old man syndrome perhaps.
The invasive sounds I can tolerate: airplanes flying overhead, buses lowering themselves so that the elderly and disabled can board, ambulance and police vehicle sirens sounding so that cars can scoot over, children laughing, hedge trimmers, and dogs talking to one another as they pass on the sidewalk.
I’m trying so hard to tolerate the chaos and appreciate the silence. This ol’ boring guy just wants to find a way to navigate life without drama and/or the need to self-medicate.
Please forgive any and all typographical and grammatical errors.
Papagni Pages 