Leaving Productivity As A Way of Being

It has become clear to me that I must always be doing something purposeful.

Or at least, I’ve come to notice that I feel very uncomfortable when I’m not doing something purposeful.

For example, just this morning, I woke up later than I would have liked.

My first thought was, “Oh, I better get going on my steps.”

Then I made my bed, got dressed, made a coffee to go, and hit the door.

Now I’m drafting and editing my daily blog posts for the next few days.

I’m trying to get a jump on them by doing some batching, as I’m planning a long road trip soon.

And I have plans to go to Costco with my friend later this morning.

Thus, I don’t want to be running around trying to get ready without having posted today’s blog article.

And then…

Well, believe me, I already have a list of things I truly want to do, but I recognize how easily they turn into “I should” do’s.

Fun?

Who’s got time for that?

And what the heck is it, anyway?

I’m beginning to think I’m too caught up in a productive mindset.

Was I always?

No, but I think years of schooling and work experience inculcated me with this mindset. It’s how one is supposed to be in my society.

Okay, then. How does one leave this behind?

I’m not sure. I keep thinking it’s about doing nothing, but I’m not very good at that.

For example, do you like to piddle?

This is where you simply laze around for a day. You get up and do whatever comes to mind, jumping from thing to thing, with no agenda, no goal, and no expectation.

There’s part of me that wants to say, “Yes, I do like to piddle.”

Another part of me says, “Oh, behave. You have zero interest in piddling.”

And then that part of me asks, “When was the last time you actually piddled by choice?”

Great question.

I’ve certainly piddled when I didn’t feel well.

I’ve piddled for a brief period of the day because I’m waiting for something else to happen.

I guess I piddle at night before bed.

It’s that old idea of “I have a few minutes to kill.”

What did those poor minutes ever do to you to make you want to kill them?

Jeez.

Then I tried to think of times in my life when I’d done this for a whole day.

And I can’t.

Grade school came to mind, and the times when I was sick and couldn’t go to school.

There was a pattern to my behavior.

I would typically be sick for the first day or two, then start to get better but continue to insist that I hadn’t recovered.

Kid you not, I even got good at willing the thermometer to climb to 99 or 100 degrees Fahrenheit when it was probably reading 98 degrees.

On that “sick, not sick” day, I would spend the day sleeping.

Later, I’d sneak into the kitchen for a snack and bring it back to my room.

I probably read something like comic books, just resting and relaxing and pitying the fools at school..

Eventually, once it was clear I was in no danger of being sent back to school to finish out the day, I’d wander into the living room, saying I was starting to feel better so I could watch afternoon reruns and cartoons.

But only if I accepted the fact that I was doomed to go to school the next day.

The limit had been reached, there would be no way to stretch the break out one more day.

If I thought I could squeeze another fake sick day out of it, I’d stay in my room.

WTH, right?

But that’s not piddling, really, is it?

That seems like active avoidance.

It was a mild form of hedonism:

seeking pleasure over the pain of going to school.

Right?

And that desire to miss school was so strong.

Where the heck did that come from?

I’m not sure.

Somewhere inside, I knew I was doing the wrong thing, but it didn’t stop me.

The desire to miss school overcame all other concerns.

It was impetuous behavior.

Perhaps that’s one of the things at the heart of my challenge in leaving “being productive” behind.

I judge impetuous behavior as “bad” and something to be avoided.

It’s now a part of my shadow, a rejected aspect of myself.

The desire to skip school, whether by pretending to be sick or later, when my friends and I would simply not show up, has been with me for as long as I can remember.

When I was in first grade, possibly second, I remember trying to talk a few of my neighborhood friends into doing this.

I told them we could meet at the corner, walk the half-mile to school, but turn right toward a field instead of left into the school.

Luckily, they had more common sense than I did.

And I probably would have chickened out anyway.

Who knows?

Fast-forward a few decades, and that desire to escape had been sublimated almost entirely.

It was still there, but I’d learned to overcome it. Mostly.

Oh, I still relished a good “snow day” that kept me from the office, but I’d mostly sublimated that impulse to Call In sick.

In fact, I’ve become so good at overcoming it that I don’t know whether I can change.

It’s fascinating.

I wish I could provide a better answer to close out this article, but I can only think of what the Beastie Boys once told us:

You’ve got to fight, for your right, to party.