By Ann
(The following is a synopsis of the actual article found on the Substack Link to the original article)
I think we are all lucky to be here together this morning. I’ve been reflecting on a challenge we often face on the cushion—one we don’t talk about enough: boredom.
I recently came across a reflection titled “The Sacred Act of Being Bored“. Ram Dass once wrote that some people find meditation boring because they feel as if nothing is happening. He suggested that this is simply another way in which the “old you” holds on tight. My advice? Let it be boring.
Beyond the Dopamine Loop
We spend our entire lives being stimulated, entertained, alerted, and messaged. We are rewarded for our attention with just enough dopamine to keep us clicking, scrolling, and reaching for the next thing before the current thing has even landed.
Then, you sit down, close your eyes, and follow the breath—and there is nothing. No insight, no warmth, and no opening. Just you, the sounds of the outside, and a voice inside saying this isn’t working.
We like to talk about the breakthroughs, the moments of clarity, and the tears that finally come. But the truth is that most of meditation feels flat and unremarkable. It is ordinary in a way that makes you wonder if you are wasting your time.
The Ego’s Protest
That flatness is exactly where the practice lives. Boredom is the ego’s protest against stillness. It is the mind saying, “This should be more interesting,” or “I should be feeling something by now”.
But underneath that protest, something vital is shifting:
- The nervous system is learning that it doesn’t need constant stimulation to survive.
- The body is discovering that it can sit without performing.
- The heart is settling into a rhythm it had forgotten.
The Willingness to Stay
In our culture, we want meditation to produce a “return on investment” for our time. But what if the return is simply the willingness to stay?. We stay not because it feels good, but because we recognize that the habit of always needing more—more stimulation, more proof, or more meaning—is the very thing that keeps us restless.
Boredom is not the absence of depth; it is the doorway to it. If you can sit with nothing happening and not run, the addiction to intensity begins to soften. A different kind of aliveness appears—one that is spacious, unhurried, and unimpressive.
This quiet, ordinary, and “completely unspectacular” space is exactly where Zazen begins.
Hakone Zendo 