Ennui and the Pandemic

Ennui: a feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction arising from a lack of occupation or enrichment.

After the better part of four months being cooped up in whatever place we call home, it’s understandable that we are a little bored. We also may be more than a little frustrated and tired of this seemingly endless pandemic.  Unfortunately, it seems the virus is not tired of the human race, so the end is not yet in sight.

Increased isolation means relationships with family and friends are disordered. There is decreased physical contact as we are socially distanced and unable to hug. Work routines, if they exist, are changed. Participation in communities that give life meaning is drastically changed or non-existent. In short, many of the ways in which we find meaning are disrupted.

We have been in crisis mode for months, and the crisis is not yet over. Tara Haelle calls it exhaustion of our surge capacity. She writes, “Surge capacity is a collection of adaptive systems-mental and physical- that humans draw on for short-term survival in acutely stressful situations, such as natural disasters.” While recovery from such crises is often a long term proposition, the actual survival skills piece is relatively short term. When a crisis plods on and morphs along the way, our capacity to cope is diminished. Feeling more brittle, having less energy, losing focus more easily and difficulty getting motivated are all indicators that our surge capacity is diminishing. We can be in crisis mode for only so long.

Given our national obsession with productivity and accomplishing something on a daily basis, having routines disrupted is far more than what it seems on the surface. It’s a recipe for deep ennui. Questioning our purpose, wondering what our value is and feeling not quite depressed and not quite anxious is the classic definition of ennui. It’s more than boredom. There’s a deep psychological and spiritual component to it.

Being in the midst of global crisis for months is a bit like being cast adrift in a foreign sea with an inadequate boat and no life jackets. We are so used to being in control, or at least deluding ourselves into thinking we are, that when something totally beyond the reaches of our problem solving, productivity and efficiency lingers for months, it is unsettling to say the least.

There is no shortage of suggestions for how to cope. Get outside every day. Make a list. Set small, achievable goals. Cut yourself some slack. It’s all good advice, but it’s a bit like putting a band aid on a compound fracture.

There is an essential truth we need to reclaim. We are more than our accomplishments (just like we are more than our failures). We are more than what we produce. We are worth more than our problem solving and efficiency. Our essential value as human beings is not something we can create on our own, it rests beyond us. A basic premise of the Judeo-Christian tradition is that we are created in the image of the divine. We live in God and God lives in us. We are partners with God in ushering in God’s realm. Our purpose and meaning as human beings rests in the holy partnership we share with the divine.

This foundation makes an ever expanding world view possible. It removes us from the rat race of doing and accomplishing and plants us in the realm of being. It also has the potential to transform every act of kindness, every deed of mercy, every human interaction (no matter how small) into a radical act of love that has the potential to change the world. It is a perspective that can undergird these changing times with deeper meaning that rests on an entirely different foundation than what the world values.

Sure, it may help to go for a walk, especially if you take in the beauty that is around you. It may be a spectacular sunset. It may be a weed pushing up through a crack in the sidewalk. Both are reminders that we are part of something that is holy and amazing. We get to participate in this grand revolution of love and kindness where our value is determined by what is beyond us, yet as close as our breath.