Leo Tolstoy’s literary masterpiece War and Peace, whose length exceeds 1200 pages, would be difficult reading for the impatient modern day mind.
Monotony is a word drowned in negativity. It automatically conjures up the boring repetitiveness that people dread. In times like ours, where life is supposed to be filled with varied fun and rewarded productivity all of the time, monotony has got to be the worse thing there is.
To me, sustained repetition — in reasonable quality dosages — can be very powerful and positively useful. There isn’t quite a synonym for the same word in a positive light, and that’s a shame, because monotonous activity has proven to be hugely responsible for testing our drive and expanding our abilities.
Arguably the greatest drummer ever, Buddy Rich (whose magic is clearly one of the inspirations for the film Whiplash) created many memorable performances. His talent cannot be described in words but the countless hours of playing and practice to build that kind of ability is understood if not obvious.
Strength, skill and intelligence are all built from repetitious physical action and remembering. We don’t learn things by doing it once. In fact, the human brain REQUIRES the reinforcement of multiple similar events in order to actually understand it enough that it alters our future behavior. In other words, we can’t learn anything without practicing it for a long period of time.
Personally, I like to make a point of doing some very repetitive activity everyday. It can be doing my rounds on the speed bag or just sweeping the floor of my painting studio. It can be doing the dishes. Whatever slow and repetitive activity it is matters little, for it represents a moment for the mind to rest, paradoxically, amidst physical activity. The body gets trained (muscle memory) while the mind is given time to process and recover from prior stimulating mental episodes. Doing art, or any craft for that matter, requires hard, focused concentration. We know that the brain does best between periods of inactivity. In spiritual circles around the world, practices of prayer and meditation are built on the foundation of repetitive chants, breathing and/or soft simple gestures like those in Tai Chi that lull the mind to sleep while being physically awake. The first thing well-trained soldiers learn to do is to clean and make up their beds and stations properly each day. Such habitual actions set things in order.
My great grandmaster, the legendary Yip Man, took as long as one full hour to perform “Siu Lim Tao” the simple first form (a set of combat maneuvers) in the traditional martial art of Wing Chun. Most practitioners do it —with much less faithfulness — in less than 5 mins.
Any skills I’ve developed in my craft(s) have all been attained through very simple and monotonous activity; throwing thousands of punches daily focused my eyes, hands, and body while countless of hours spent drawing taught me to see and create. Just as time spent reading and re-reading the words of the creative and wise open up the mind, it is through such seemingly boring and repetitive activity that we can make or re-make ourselves in any fashion we see fit. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it. We are, after all, the summation of what we do, and not what we just think, feel or intend.
Artist Chuck Close in his studio. Don’t be telling Chuck that his work process is tedious — the man does monster-sized paintings while sitting in a wheel chair.
It’s true that repetition also tires. But that’s another favorable point; we build mental endurance and strength to battle both the fatigue and inattention that now plagues us and our society. We can become more resistant to all the noise, distraction and irritations that are constantly trying to take us away from ourselves. I know for instance, the more time I spent on my smartphone or on the internet, the more scatterbrain I become when doing simple tasks like reading a long book or even cooking a simple meal. A brain taught and conditioned to search, scan and react becomes one that searches, scans and reacts ALL THE TIME WITH EVERYTHING. The result is that monotonous skill building action becomes impossible to sustain; we get bored and do so too easily and too often, even with things that shouldn’t necessarily bore us. To see, feel and truly understand something, to do it right and to see with an open mind, requires slow attentive time spent with it.
“Boredom is the self being stuffed with itself.” — Walker Percy, Writer
Now, I’m not talking about abandoning or resisting technology, but to beware of its influences both good and bad. When was the last time you spent a long moment not thinking or reminiscing while doing a very simple task? Do you always find yourself turning on the TV/computer or have your headphones on listening to music? The older I’ve gotten the more I’ve learned to appreciate slow monotonous activity. Its simplicity can be like moving meditation. As a result, I see better and I hear better. Time slows down and I don’t feel the need to be “entertained” all the time.
David Lean’s epic, emotional masterpiece Lawrence of Arabia, starring Peter O’ Toole, is a visual feast for the eyes, but it’s the director’s careful direction in slow scenes like this that allows the audience to take it all in and appreciate its wonders.
The great irony to the conflict we live with is that all the noise and busyness now condoned in our society is what I find to be truly tedious (and I’m not easily bored!) The perfect example is the many popular Hollywood films today; its equal parts of talking heads and VFX high-flying action makes for completely confusing and uninteresting “entertainment.” Texture and creative balance is not achieved switching between verbal noise and physical noise; art is created with thoughtful and nuanced displays of technique, genuine emotion and moments of reprieve from complexity or chaos. It’s the scene where the character slowly moves thru the streets in solitude, or the way he sits, head down with no words spoken that tells us more about him and his story than any fancy wordplay or rambunctious action ever could. Purposeful monotonous work, like the seemingly slow and steady moments in a well-textured film, give meaning, strength and balance to experiences.
Master animator Ken Harris at his desk. Animation (hand-drawn or otherwise) requires a lot of tedious labor. If you don’t like or can’t handle the process, then you probably don’t like the craft enough to do it.
Monotony is impactful and useful. So be patient. Take the time to enjoy those repetitive moments and milk their power. Find ways, both structured (planned events) and unstructured (everyday maintenance) to exercise your attention and presence in doing things. Alternate working and resting the mind. Creativity often lies somewhere between that exchange.