“Lazy” is a much more slippery term than it ought to be. What passes as fruitful activity can just stand in the way of what you really should be doing, and sometimes doing nothing produces positive results. Sometimes, whether you are doing something or nothing is a matter of interpretation.
For the last few days, since I finished teaching summer school last Friday, I haven’t made good on my intention to plan for the next school year, haven’t read anything from my formidable selection of summer reading, haven’t attacked my self-improvement list, and certainly haven’t done the chores I should have. I thought I might use this down time to reread material for my classes in the fall or gather poems for a manuscript or work on a gallery webpage. Instead, I’ve been doing painting after painting—chain painting like a chain smoker, just finishing one
to begin another
and another
and another
and another
And all of these are only details from larger paintings.
And, until now, I hadn’t given a thought to writing a blog post either.
Jules Reynard, a nineteenth century French novelist and playwright said, “Laziness is nothing more than the habit of resting before you get tired,” and by that definition I am the laziest person I know, believing myself worthy of a break even before I’ve actually done anything to take a break from.
Gandhi said “Indolence is a delightful but distressing state. One must be doing something to be happy.”
In a defensive mood, I might say I AM active—look at all the art I’ve produced over the last few days—but laziness is in the motive, not in the effort. Knowing painting is what I’d rather do makes painting lazy. A diligent person turns to tasks that are not only necessary but unpleasant and arduous. Arduousness in art doesn’t count…because I enjoy it. And, at the end of the summer, I know I will judge this time by how many of those unpleasant items I accomplish. I won’t be as proud of myself if I only get to cross out “Paint” or “Watch the entire Battlestar Galactica series.”
I try to believe the scholars on the other side, people like Soren Kierkegaard who called idleness “The only true good” but I never really succeed. And I’ve never been good at working for rewards. I’d rather skip to the rewards or, better yet, have the work be rewarding. I know my trouble, an unrealistic sense if how deserving I am. Don’t I do enough during the school year to earn some time off? But I can say that every day until it’s the first day of school. And if only I could stop believing I will say it until then.
Every teacher knows July 4th marks the psychological midpoint of summer, the moment when time stops looking expansive and “back to school” ads begin to grow like dandelions.
If I put half as much effort into doing things as I do agonizing over not doing them…
You complete the sentence. I’ve got to go.
Filed under: Abstraction, Art, Distraction, Doubt, Frustration, Habit, Human Nature, Identity, Life, Longing, Musings, Rants, Summer, Thoughts, Time, Visual Art, Work
…I could have dug to china by now.
xx
I don’t know if you mean you or me, but, if it’s me, you are certainly right. I sometimes think that if I could spend my time on other things, I might be a brilliant something by now. —D
nothing would ever get done
That’s the attitude I wish I could believe in. —D
I’d be less self-critical. G
As a completion of the phrase, you have a tautology. I’d love to be able to say so. —D
Enjoy your painting time! I love the bright colors and whimsical flow of shapes. Let yourself be a grasshopper for a change, and let the ants do the grunt work. It is summer, after all.
I am enjoying it, maybe too much, that’s all. I keep thinking that if painting or writing were my livelihood, I could play for pay, but I bet my attitude would change considerably if that were really the case. I’d be looking elsewhere for distraction. I like the idea of being the grasshopper, but maybe you could talk to my wife! —D
These are gorgeous! They are so vibrant, full of energy. I say, go with it. What a gift!
I guess because I’ve always had such a hard time finishing my paintings, now when I work on my art I see it as very productive time. I never think of doing art as being lazy, even if there are clothes to be folded or dinner to make or anything, anything. Painting is producing in my eyes.
The strange thing is that, to me, these scans seem more muted than the originals.
Although I spend considerable time on my paintings, most of the work is automatic (in the surreal sense) and not something I have to carve out time to do. I do it while everyone is watching television or reading or whatever. That’s good and bad, in that I can look up and discover hours gone and the clothes not folded or the carpet not vacuumed or the school books not read. Really I think painting IS productive, but not always the right sort of productivity.
If I had an opportunity (other than here) to show my work, I might have trouble finishing them too. For me, everything feels like dabbling. When every painting ( or poem or essay, for that matter) feels a little like a coat of paint over the same wall, you forgive yourself more and come to regard it as a way to spend time instead of as a way to create something. I’m not sure whether that’s a good or bad thing, particularly when other walls certainly need attention!
Oh well, it’s better than spending hours at video games, I suppose.
Thanks for visiting and commenting. I haven’t been at all good about making comments myself lately, but I am out there. —D
Laziness is so incredibly tricky. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately on account of an ongoing dialogue I’ve been having with a dear friend on the matter. We’ve been talking about it in a slightly different context, however… the sort of “laziness” that arises from depression, and whether or not it really is laziness.
But I think you’re right that a lot of the question about laziness really depends on how you define laziness, and as very accurately identified, it is a painfully slippery word. What’s more, it’s one charged with all sorts of guilt and self-loathing on account of some of the most peaceful and pleasant activities. I’m very much disinclined to accept Reynard’s definition of it as resting before you’re tired, though. It’s problematic in my mind to state it that way, because what sort of fatigue are we talking about? Physical fatigue? Emotional? Spiritual? … Psychological? If you’re not doing what needs to be done there is nearly always some sort of weariness holding you back. I know that’s quite the assertion, and I’m not quite sure how to defend it, but I suspect part of the connection in my mind is that you wouldn’t have set out these other things to do unless you saw them as a good. And seeing them as a good, makes you desire to pursue them barred only by some sort of internal obstacle of will. But that’s fairly tricky and I don’t know how far I want to take it… I guess I just think that’s not good enough. It seems too ambiguous because there’s so many immeasurable ways in which a person can be tired, and also wrong, because I think not just physical, but mental, emotional, psychological fatigue are perfectly legitimate causes of said fatigue. It’s the spiritual element that makes for laziness because it’s that sort of weakness that causes us to stray from the good.
I tend to see laziness more as a matter of neglect, of failing to fulfill your obligations. Those obligations can either be self-imposed items on a to-do list, or those you have to other people. I think I want to define it more that way because laziness, or sloth, is considered to be a sin. And in order for it to be a sin, there has to be some wrong committed… the wrong in my mind is neglect.
So I guess I’d recommend you ask yourself if you really NEGLECTED those other things when you chose to paint? You do, of course, still have over a month to prepare for classes. Granted, I’m not encouraging that you procrastinate, but I am saying to enjoy what time you do have and not waste it worrying about things you haven’t done. I think the concept of laziness is grossly abused because people tend to overcommit themselves or have unrealistic expectations for what they will and will not be able to accomplish. I also think that the key also is to keep in mind that these other forms of recreation and relaxation, like your painting for example, have intrinsic good that you can benefit from, and you’d be perfectly justified to deliberately plan to spend some time each week/month/whatever doing them. The key is always moderation. So long as they’re not compromising your ability to fulfill your primary obligations, then by all means! Live your life to the fullest!
I just can’t bear the tendency that most of us (myself included) have to begrudge ourselves these delightful forms of enrichment, and resent ourselves for occasionally prioritizing them over other things. Yes, it’s a temptation to go overboard. But I think that one way to both avoid that, and also make the most of when you do “indulge,” is to fully own our decisions, our choices for how we spend our time. If we choose these activities deliberately instead of allowing ourselves to just fall into them by default or an unconscious (generous of me) unwillingness to think about the other things we could/should be doing, I think we’d be a lot better off.
I am the product of my choices. I alone can make them. I find these thoughts help me find moderation in my choices between the mundane things that normally populate To-Do lists and the “me” activities we all have and long for. Because then you’re more consciously aware of how they ALL are “me” activities. I chose this or that activity because it’s presently in MY best interest, be it in MY best interest to do the dishes right now for the peace of mind afforded by less clutter, or in MY best interest to go to the park and fly a kite because it calms and soothes the monstrous anxiety I’m experiencing at present. It’s not so much what you’re choosing, it’s why… or in some cases, why you’re not. I think that Ghandi’s claim that we’re not happy unless we’re doing something really is true. And when you’re deliberately CHOOSING one activity over another, what would have been idleness is no more. Because you’re no longer doing it as a default, or an aversion. You’re choosing it for a purpose, be it to recharge, to improve your mood, or just plain take a mental break, and this gives that activity a new meaning that far surpasses mere idleness.
Aaaaand that’s what I think about that. I have no illusions that I’m not very good at writing in these forms, particularly without revising what I’ve written a half-dozen times, so I hope that all made sense.
From what little I saw of your paintings, they seemed like an afternoon well spent. Hope things work out well half as well with prepping for next semester’s classes and knocking some chores out!
Wow! Thank you so much for your thoughtful response. It has occurred to me that what people call laziness can be a symptom of depression, a sort of self-medication. Given my present circumstances, I’d say that’s likely. I identify deeply with the different types of fatigue you mention. There’s more than one way to be tired.
And I like the way you distinguish between laziness and neglect, as I don’t mind the former as much as the latter—I especially hate the idea others might suffer for my neglect. I accept my obligations.
What you say about choice is particularly helpful. Obviously choice contributes to our sense of purpose, but it also mitigates some of the guilt we might feel because we’re not doing what at least part of us thinks we should. It will feel better to choose to paint.
In so many ways, your response to my post seems far more articulate and thoughtful than the post itself. Thank you so much for offering it! —D