Last week a MyRagan.com blogger named Hypermark jotted a brief post about a friend whose "laziness forced him to come up with solutions that enabled him to be successful without perennially running around like a chicken without a head. That wasn't his vision of himself."
How did the Lazy One do it? Hypermark doesn't say, but he got me to thinking about how I do it.
I have lots of work, with deadlines every day, every week, every month. But I'm freelance, so I have no meetings and I don't do a ton of traveling. Which means:
Somehow, so far, most days, knock wood, I am not wall-to-wall busy, even though I sometimes tell people I am so that I can concentrate on my work. I can make myself super busy by planning a golf game or a family outing for the afternoon and cramming all my work into the morning. But my standard 6:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. workday usually has time for an after-lunch nap and a workout and a long phone conversation and a little daydreaming.
But what really fills the cracks between the deadlines is agony over what I should be doing. In seven years as a freelancer I've never settled on a basic agreement with myself over whether:
• Taking a nap is a sign that I am fundamentally bored with life.
• It is decadent and irresponsible for a man in the prime of his career to play golf on a Wednesday afternoon.
• I should think of my career, or remember that life is short.
• I should be here in case the phone rings.
• I should be learning more about Web 2.0—and beyond!
• I should to try to make more money for my family every chance I get.
• I should write a book.
We exist in a corporate culture where busy-ness is valued, in an American culture where the long work weeks equal virtue, in our own inner life of vacillating passions and ambitions.
Because of who are and where we are—and when (an age that offers us more choices than any previous)—these are the difficult questions most of us have to answer every single day. We must decide every day: What should I do with my life?
In fact, the only ones among us who don't have to answer that question are those folks running around like chickens without heads.
And in this narrow sense—I've been there before and expect someday I'll be there again—they are the lazy ones.
No?
Comments (9)
I work to live, not the other way around. I don't value being "busy" for the sake of sounding important. And all too often that is what it is. I've known people who could ramble for 30 minutes (or more!) about how "busy" they are. It makes them feel important.
Me, I'd rather feel good. That means day dreaming. Lots of day dreaming.
YMMV. Your day dreaming may be (ugh) golf. Kerplooey.
Posted by Diane | August 20, 2007 3:08 PM
Posted on August 20, 2007 15:08
When we die,the only thing we get to take with us is who we are, not a company we've built or a book we've written. And who we are is all about our relationships with other people. A little work, a little golf, a little time with your family--I think you've got the wisdom of a retiree without having to live through all the years of frustration. David Murray, I salute you!
Posted by Jane Greer | August 20, 2007 3:16 PM
Posted on August 20, 2007 15:16
Less than an hour after writing this post, I get an e-mail promoting work/life balance, for busy business professionals like myself. It begins:
"Give yourself an applause. You work hard. And you are probably a work-a-holic. In fact, according to a new study, 48% of business professionals will attempt to increase their productivity this fall to realize year-end business goals and 1 in 3 are prepared to give up personal interests and their free, fun time to do so. ...."
Posted by David Murray | August 20, 2007 4:12 PM
Posted on August 20, 2007 16:12
That email is a perfect example of how "they" try to convince us we OUGHT to be headless chickens so we will take silly courses like this, instead of playing golf, or playing with children, or, in my case, regularly spending all Sunday afternoon parked on the couch with coffee cup and book in hand.
I am hearing more and more from people that they are embracing your philosophy and rejecting the workaholic approach. As Jane so aptly points out, at the end of our lives it will not be the "stuff" we've accumulated that defines us, or by which we are remembered, it will be the lives we've touched and been touched by, so THAT is where our attention and time should be mainly focused.
"They" can tell me I need to be a workaholic all "they" want, I can choose to ignore them, and I do. You, David are far more of a role-model where "balance" is concerned, than headless chickens! Hmmmm, that was meant to be a compliment in case it didn't come across that way!
Posted by Kristen | August 21, 2007 7:20 AM
Posted on August 21, 2007 07:20
I think I'd be a better role model if I didn't agonize about all this stuff every day. I do think work is one of the most reliable meaning-makers in this life, and so it's very, very important to me.
I just have to decide every day HOW important it is, and the deciding itself is a part-time job.
Not complaining, not bragging, just describing the way it is for me in hopes that others will share their—hooray for coffee cups and couches!—own internal conversations on this.
Posted by David Murray | August 21, 2007 7:38 AM
Posted on August 21, 2007 07:38
Of course you already know my take on this. Who gives a rip what you do? My girlfriend was horrified when her son, age 10, when asked by a teacher to write about one of his parents: "My mom keeps out house really clean."
UGH.
I often ask myself...what do I want it to say on my tombstone? Keeps things in perspective (and keeps me working part-time and playing a lot with the kids).
Posted by Eileen | August 21, 2007 10:59 AM
Posted on August 21, 2007 10:59
I'm reading Timothy Ferriss' THE 4-HOUR WORKWEEK. There's lots here to think about, and in light of the conversation in this post, this in particular struck me: Ferriss says:
"Slow down and remember this: Most things make no difference. Being busy is a form of laziness--lazy thinking and indiscriminate action."
So. Does that answer your question, David? (Oh, sorry: didn't mean to wake you up.)
Posted by Jane Greer | August 22, 2007 12:11 PM
Posted on August 22, 2007 12:11
Four hours? That seems a bit extreme, Jane! (Yawn.)
Posted by David Murray | August 22, 2007 12:22 PM
Posted on August 22, 2007 12:22
Eileen, would she have preferred, "My mom keeps our house really filthy?"
Posted by Diane | August 24, 2007 3:54 PM
Posted on August 24, 2007 15:54