May 13, 2005
-
The pinkie and ring finger on my left hand are the only members of my
rather lazy body to be employed doing anything useful right
now. My fingers type on in happy rhythmic oblivion (they may
not be the fastest fingers out there, but they certainly don’t require
any supervision) while the aforementioned appendages randomly and
sporadically leap off the beaten path to hit Ctrl-S. My
newly repaired computer decided I got off too easy with the last bill
and has consequently punished me by ordering the screen to go on strike
(darn the union). Which finds me with my laptop balanced
precariously in that “just so” position while I hold my mouth a certain
way and don’t breathe….and hit ctrl-s often enough to insure a
salvageable section of this entry should an “episode” occur.
The above paragraph should be proof enough of what
I’m about to confess. I am utterly and completely
lazy. I could be doing a number of useful things (like
feeding starving children in Uganda), but instead I’m lounging happily
on the couch writing nonsense. I’ve been told enough times
in my life that busy-ness is next to Godliness (or maybe that’s
supposed to be “cleanliness”), but refuse to believe it’s anything
other than an American myth…right up there with “White-mans-burden”
and “War on Terrorism”. If Moses wasn’t even allowed to
pick up sticks on the Sabbath and Jesus apparently found it worthwhile
to sit around in the temple hanging out, then I think we’ve taken the
“idle hands are evil” mantra just a little too seriously.
Don’t think it was easy for me to become lazy. It
wasn’t and isn’t. It’s been a rather long process of
re-thinking my values and priorities. I’ve now been
learning and studying laziness for almost two years, although I’m
getting a forced graduation sometime in September. I prefer to
see it as a promotion, I will then be the Master teaching my young
padawan the mysteries of laziness (side note: I must also dig out my old
homemade light saber, but I suppose my star wars legos will have to
wait until they don’t present a choking hazard to my young son).
Say what you may, but I find no proof that having a
frenzied schedule brings any more validation to life than sitting in an
old bookstore doing nothing but sneezing and perusing titles for an
entire day. When a friend
lectured me on the importance of being
a working member of the body of Christ, I defensively asked why I
can’t be the gallbladder or tonsils…heck I’d be perfectly happy being
the little flap of skin that keeps your pee from backing up into your
kidney’s (don’t ask me how I know that). Not everybody can be the
brain or the heart so don’t rain on my parade.
I feel quite satisfied with my life…and this day (as
satisfied as one can be…if you’re too satisfied with life then you’re
guilty of a much deeper sin: Lack of self-evaluation). The house …I mean trailer…
isn’t
completely clean, but I’ve read a book, talked on the phone, chatted on
IM, read two magazines (one about parenting and the other about
Christian Science). I’ve bandaged my husband’s thumb, unleashed
another Internet search for bras, and gotten my
daily dose of frustration from TheCrossings. However, with that
dizzying schedule, I think the most important think I accomplished was
sitting in the sun doing absolutely nothing. Unless you count
day-dreaming as something…in which case I was frightfully
busy.
