Reflections on Boredom in Italy

I’ve spent the last ten days in Italy, and, honestly, I’m feeling a bit bored.

Now, I know that might sound strange, especially in such a beautiful place. I’ve been here many times before, so this isn’t exactly my first rodeo.

Since I became a father, my threshold for chaos has shifted; what I used to consider excitement now feels a little mundane.

The first week was jam-packed. I co-hosted a retreat focused on Joseph Piper’s ideas about “Leisure: The Foundations of Culture.” Each day was filled with stimulating discussions that just flowed. The food was incredible, the cigars were delightful, and the beer? Well, let’s just say it was refreshing. It was a week of activity and, frankly, it was exhausting, but in a good way.

But now that the retreat has wrapped up, I’m left feeling, well, bored.

Why the Boredom?

So, what’s behind this boredom? Am I itching to binge-watch TV? Nah, not really my thing. Is it because I can’t entertain myself? I’ve got plenty of creativity to spare. I actually have no work obligations here—so am I grappling with some postmodern kind of ennui? Not exactly. I’ve been working since I hit the ground, taking photos and writing. Just yesterday, I drove eight hours south to get here.

So, what’s my deal?

It comes down to loneliness. My wife and kids are back home. The screams and laughter that usually fill my life are miles away. The toys might be causing some imaginary disputes, but it’s all pretty quiet.

The endless questions about whether to get cars or trees or ice cream later? Yeah, those are just echoes in my head right now. Instead of keeping me occupied, I find myself missing that noise.

A Father’s Freedom

I thought I would love this time alone, relishing the chance to be free of parental responsibilities for a bit. It sounded freeing, an opportunity to focus solely on work. In theory, anyway. The novelty wore off pretty quickly and now? It just feels, well, dull.

Having become a father has heightened my appreciation for chaos. It’s like my emotional palette has broadened. You know that feeling at the end of a long day when you just want your child to sleep because you’re absolutely spent? But then, just moments after they doze off, you feel this pull to check on them, to give them one more kiss. What’s that about? Only parents truly understand it.

Revisiting Italy

This isn’t my first time in Italy. I’ve photographed much of what I’m seeing again and, to be honest, I don’t really feel like doing it alone this time around. Maybe if I were 25 and single, it would feel different. But now, at 38, my heart is with my family. I’d rather share these moments than hoard them.

Some people dread settling down and starting a family, fearing they’ll lose freedom. There’s truth to that. When you become a parent, your life changes, and there’s no going back. You can’t be “just you” anymore.

A Deeper Connection

This becomes clear on a surface level, but it also strikes a deeper, more subtle chord. My soul has expanded since I became a father. It’s richer than when I was alone, yet it hasn’t diluted. It’s as if love takes on new dimensions—growing rather than flattening out.

I don’t want to carry my kids along out of a sense of duty. Sure, there are obligations, but I genuinely feel bored without them. I want to share life with them—not just because I love them, but because I actually enjoy their company.

Anticipating Home

When I return home, I realize the whirlwind of parenting will hit me like a reality check. I’ll find myself mediating toy disputes and feeling drained by the end of the day. I’ll be interrupted constantly but that, oddly enough, is where I find fulfillment. I know that’s just part of this stage of life.

Having a family pulls you out of isolation. Your child becomes a part of you. While it deepens your sense of wholeness, it also makes you more vulnerable. Instead of being on a solitary island, you transform into an archipelago where your identity includes not just yourself but those you care for deeply.

So here I am in Italy, surrounded by beauty, yet feeling bored. I’m just a piece of a much larger puzzle, missing the rest.