The question I’m approaching 80 and am overwhelmed by what I think is called existential boredom. The truth is, I’ve been struggling with it for ages… I have achieved all my ambitions – and much more – but I don’t know what to do next. I’m constantly being told to get a hobby or join a choir by people who have no idea what deep boredom is. I’m jealous of them! What do you suggest I do?
Philippa’s answer That existential boredom you describe isn’t just boredom, is it? It’s not the kind that can be swept away by a new hobby or a trivial distraction. No wonder you feel frustrated when people tell you to “keep busy,” as if filling the time could make any difference to what’s really going on inside you.
This phase of life is not about what you ‘do’ next, but about who you become next. And perhaps the most important step is recognizing that you still have that power. What happens next may not be about achieving external goals, but about turning inward, to the depths of who you are, and finding the next stage of your own becoming. It’s not an easy journey, and I don’t want to downplay how isolating it can feel. But in that struggle also lies the potential for profound discoveries.
You’ve achieved your ambitions, achieved goals you once set for yourself, and now you find yourself at a loss. What now, after all the striving and achieving? That place you find yourself is what existential philosophers call “the existential vacuum,” where the old meanings have dried up and the activities that once filled your life no longer support you. This is not an uncommon experience, especially for those who have actually lived, achieved and accomplished something. You’ve faced life’s challenges, but now, without those goals, a deeper question arises: What’s left?
I can imagine that at almost 80 years old you are confronted not only with boredom, but also with a deeper existential crisis, because this is not about boredom in the everyday sense, but about a confrontation with what the existential psychotherapist Rollo May called ‘being and non-being’. You may be more aware than ever of your own finitude, of time itself slipping through your fingers, and this realization can leave you feeling hollow. Yet it is this awareness that holds the potential for something deeper.
Your boredom is a call to find a new, deeper form of commitment to life, one that transcends the goals and achievements that used to motivate you. I don’t think the real problem is boredom – it’s the search for meaning at this stage of your life. It’s about facing the freedom you now have, not as an overwhelming burden, but as an opportunity.
Meaning is not something we “solve” or “achieve” once and for all. It’s something we create all the time. And now that you’re at a crossroads, you have the freedom to redefine meaning in a way that isn’t dictated by past goals or external achievements. You can deal with life in a way that reflects the person you are becoming, and not the person you used to be.
That may sound intimidating, but this is where Rollo May’s idea of creativity comes into play. He didn’t mean creativity in the sense of painting or writing (although that could be the case), but in the broader sense of how we relate to life. You may no longer be building a career or pursuing the ambitions of your youth or middle age, but that doesn’t mean the creative process stops. It just shifts. What new ways of living, new relationships, or ways of interacting with the world still spark something in you? What could you contribute, even quietly, to the people around you or to the world at large? This could be something altruistic, like listening to schoolchildren read, or something of mutual benefit, like a good conversation.
It’s not about being ‘busy’, or filling your days with distractions, it’s about asking: what is still important to me? It’s about reclaiming the freedom you have now, even if it feels uncomfortable, even if it means confronting uncertainty. What parts of yourself still need to be explored? Are there conversations you’ve never had, people you’ve never really connected with? I wonder if you are somehow being called to confront your own authenticity. What is most authentic for you now? You have experienced so much of life; you have seen beyond the illusions of constant success and striving. So what calls to you on this deeper level? Now that your life’s work is in many ways complete, what kind of being do you want to embody?
And of course there is also the shadow of ‘non-being’ hanging in the background. Rollo May would suggest that embracing this, rather than denying it, can bring a sharper sense of meaning to the present. It is not about despair in the end, but about the realization that the fact that life is finite gives it urgency and meaning. The awareness of death is what can make life, in the here and now, all the richer.
You are not alone in this. So many of us are faced with that emptiness, that feeling of “what now?” But what you’re going through isn’t a failure of imagination, it’s the human condition, and it’s an opportunity to reshape your own meaning, even now.
Recommended reading Boredom: A Lively history by Peter Toohey
Every week, Philippa Perry tackles a personal problem submitted by a reader. If you would like advice from Philippa, please send your concern to askphilippa@guardian.co.uk. Submissions are subject to our general terms and conditions