50/50 Exercise #30: The Colors That Shape Us

The other day, one of my young friends asked in a solemn tone, “Aren’t you bored after all these years?”

I changed the subject. I told her about a curious experience I’d had at the park.

“Last Thursday, I discovered a new shade of purple. I was walking past the driveway of the arboretum, and I noticed a flowerbed that had been freshly planted. The tiny clusters of blossoms were a purple that I’m sure I’ve never seen before in all my many years.”

She said, “You changed the subject. I asked you about boredom.”

I remember spending a lot of time bored when I was very young—the first couple of decades of my life. Then came what we used to call “young adulthood”—a phase of maturation when there always seemed to be so much to do, so much to learn, so much to experience, and more than enough energy for all of it. There was never time for boredom.

But for some people, boredom eventually comes back. Before the longevity therapies, boredom arrived back on the scene somewhere in the late thirties, or maybe the forties. That was when some people found it easier not to keep weighing their dreams against reality. They started looking instead for something they called “peace.” To me, that state looked more like resignation.

When my body started to wear out, my supply of physical energy couldn’t match the level of my curiosity. That’s the critical moment, the fork in the road: Do you dial back your curiosity? Or do you seek new sources of stamina? Do you challenge yourself to learn beyond what you thought was your capacity to absorb new experiences, to grow beyond your capacity to grow? Or do you begin to accept the limitations that life places on you?

Young people who haven’t paid attention to the history of the Millennials tend to suppose that our survival rate is related in some way to the initial health condition of the subject. The truth is, more than a dozen of us began treatment after the age of 80. One patient—you would recognize him today for his athletic accomplishments and his term in public office—underwent coronary-artery bypass surgery three years before he was enrolled in the trial group.

But I also knew 40-year-olds who entered the program in perfect health, only to die at the age of 110 or 120 in freak accidents or of mysterious illnesses that defied treatment. Or by their own hands. I learned to recognize a certain bored look in the eyes. I can see when someone is getting near the end.

What makes the difference? Are we genetically programmed for boredom, or curiosity, or to chart our way carefully between the two? Does each of us possess a natural orientation to take one fork in the road rather than the other? I don’t know. I like to think that when boredom presented itself to me as an option, I made a conscious choice and said, “No, I have better things to do.”

Each Millennial will give you a different answer to the question, “Aren’t you bored after all these years?”

My answer: “Last Thursday I discovered a new shade of purple.”

© 2008 Edward F. Gumnick