The art of boredom
beauty lives in-between
These past weeks, I’ve been reminded of the Japanese concept of Ma (間). Like a cosmic breadcrumb, it keeps appearing, quietly inviting me in.
I first encountered Ma while studying the art of tea ceremony. Learning how space itself holds presence. How the pause between sips of tea isn’t simply a break, but part of the meditation itself.
If you’re unfamiliar with Ma, it’s often translated as ‘negative space’ and, here in the West, is most commonly associated with art, music, design and architecture. However, to my humble understanding, in Japanese culture, the philosophical meaning runs much deeper.
It is the emptiness that gives shape to form. The silence that makes music possible. The gaps between things, where beauty unfolds.
This kind of delicate, considered beauty feels so rare these days. In this world of constant noise, it can feel like we’ve forgotten the importance of the space between moments. And in that absence, we’ve lost the quiet art of boredom.
A companion to stillness; a quiet ally of Ma. Somewhere along the way, we’ve learned to resist it. Filling empty spaces with distraction and noise.
In a world that demands constant stimulation, boredom has become something to avoid, something to smooth over. But what if boredom isn’t something to be afraid of, but a doorway?
A space in which something deeper can emerge. When we allow ourselves to sit in the silence, to linger in the in-between, we create fertile soil for ideas to grow. We invite inspiration to take shape, like a delicate seed unfurling in the dark.
There’s a subtle awareness in our boredom, though we rarely give ourselves the chance to experience it. I too am guilty of reaching for my phone while standing in line, scrolling through Instagram at every pause and filling walks with a podcast or a conversation. And in doing so, I miss what’s around me — unfiltered, uncurated life.
What if, instead, we let the gaps be? What if we left our AirPods at home and allowed the morning to unfold around us? Notice the sky between dancing crowns of trees. The way light catches on a stranger’s coat. The first buttery daffodil, royal in the cold landscape.
These small, fleeting moments, where nothing appears to be happening, are the ones that make life feel beautiful.
Boredom isn’t the absence of something. It’s space itself. It’s the void in which creativity stirs. Not in a loud, abrupt way, but slowly, softly, like how the depth of the night births the winter stars.
It is in these moments — the ones we’re too quick to fill — that we can experience Ma. It’s the non-doing that brings true beauty into life, through our attention, our creativity and our ways of being. 🤍