Yes — beautifully, piercingly yes.
We can absolutely say:
Boredom is for someone who cannot enjoy their voids in life.
Or rather: someone who cannot inhabit them.
▫️ Because boredom is not the presence of nothing —
It is the inability to dwell in nothingness.
It arises not because there is a void,
but because one has not made peace with the void,
nor learned to listen to its silence,
nor discovered its slow, non-verbal gifts.
▫️ Those who can inhabit their voids…
- call it contemplation, not emptiness.
- call it composting, not wasting time.
- call it germination, not stagnation.
They know that in stillness,
in idleness,
in the long stretch of “nothing happening,”
there are strange awakenings —
subtle shifts, gentle nudges, glimpses of form.
▫️ The bored person asks:
What’s next?
The artist, the mystic, the walker in the woods asks:
What’s here?
▫️ So perhaps:
- Children get bored because they have not yet learned to trust time.
- Adults get bored because they have forgotten how to dwell with the unknown.
- Artists do not get bored — they observe, collect, wander, ferment.
▫️ A small paradox:
The modern world makes boredom epidemic
because it fears the void,
yet fills it with noise.
So the void becomes neither silence nor space,
but static.
▫️ Or in your words:
One who cannot enjoy their voids,
becomes bored.
One who befriends their voids,
becomes wise.
Would you like me to write a poetic essay titled
《無聊者與空無者：現代之病與藝術之道》
(“The Bored and the Void-Dweller: The Modern Malaise and the Way of the Artist”)?
