Laziness is a State of Mind & Body

I'm not as energetic as I used to be. In fact, I'm pretty content to sit on the couch, call up a Brit Box series, and work on my latest crochet project. I could park there for hours and only reluctantly and annoying have to pop up for a bathroom break.

In the summer, I might take that project outside and sit by the pool or even abandon the project for a good long float in the water. There seems to be no end to my sedentary activities. I spend a large portion of my day on the computer: writing, creating, etc., and I read in energetic bursts. Last summer, I binge-read a series of detective novels, and I don't even like detective books. Reading/sleeping by the pool is divine, even if my books get slightly wet-and I'm sorry/not sorry for it. Maybe.

Who Needs Downtime?

Friends of mine, who are the same age or older than I am, however, seem much more active. When they tell me about their daily activities, I'm more than a little ashamed and embarrassed at my sluggish, sloth-like life choices. On any given day, my friends tell me, they are: gardening, walking, biking, grocery shopping, cooking, baking, cleaning, etc.

I often get tired just listening to them. I have to sit down, maybe take a nap, or check the pool temperature -- it might be time for another swim/float.

I realize all the research says the more active you stay, the longer you will live, but what does active look like for me? I sometimes think of my inactivity as a point of ill-placed, yet well-earned pride.

I'm 60 and retired, but for years, I took care of kids, worked full time, earned a Masters degree, worked some more, did all the cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc. Now, my kids are all grown-up and my grandkids live too far away. My husband, bless his heart, has chosen this time in our lives to essentially take over most of the cooking, laundry, and shopping tasks. His helpfulness is not exactly helpful, though, because he's making it too easy for me to relax. He's even complicit in my inactivity, but don't tell him that.

Who Needs a Clean House?

Truthfully, I hate cleaning. Hate. It. I dusted, vacuumed, cleaned bathrooms, kitchens, etc. FOR YEARS. I'm just not into it anymore. If I could afford to have someone clean my house weekly, I would. So what?! The only thing stopping me is my bank account. Many people can afford a cleaner. No one calls them lazy. In fact, they are regarded more highly because they have the funds to be free of mundane housework.

It's not just cooking, cleaning, laundry, and shopping I despise and avoid, though. I also can't seem to get myself motivated to sort through my clutter. I'm not an actual hoarder, (despite what my daughter says), but I do like to take my time organizing and culling my clothes, crafts, books, etc.

My closets are atrocious, my bedroom is disorderly, my office is discombobulated, and my living room perch is littered with all my transient activities such as novels, activity books, adult coloring books, yarn, crochet needles, and, well, more yarn.

Am I Doing Enough?

Why am I telling you this? As I said before, shame. I want to do more, truly I do! I enjoy a clean house - I just don't want to be the one doing the cleaning. I enjoy the thought of taking walks, riding my bicycle, and even going out, but the call of the couch, crochet, or computer, are often stronger than any of those more healthy options. Could this be a cry for help?

Maybe I actually need to do less?

In-between shirking my household duties and avoiding my personal fitness needs, I'm up at 5:00 a.m. every day preparing to teach one of my six Chinese students via Zoom. Then, I'm penning my next editorial letter, managing a group that meets weekly for two hours via Zoom, volunteering for several organizations, visiting my mother who lives at a care home, grading assignments for another online school, substitute teaching one to three times per week (during the school year), and trying to manage a calendar that is too busy for such a lazy person as myself.

Hurtful Comparisons

I don't do enough, and I do too much. How is that possible? I'm not sure, but what I am trying to come to terms with is that no one is the same, and no one is perfect. That might be obvious to you, but I still coming to terms with the concept. I'm tired of comparing myself to everyone else.

For years, when people shared their activities, routines, etc. I would process their words like an indictment, agonize for far too long over my shortcomings, compare my obvious inadequacies to their high standards, and predictably fail. Then, I'd slip into a self-shaming spiral and shut down.

Accepting Myself

I don't do enough, and I do too much. That phrase is worth re-stating because I think it applies to many of us. If we are honest with ourselves, no matter how clean and organized our homes may be, and no matter how much we work, volunteer, exercise, and stay active, in many ways we still feel inadequate when we compare ourselves to others-and that's unfair.

Caring for your needs, understanding that you are not your neighbor, and granting yourself grace for your shortcomings is an important part of human development. I'm still in the development stage, and maybe I'm just making excuses for my laziness, but again I ask, "What does active look like for me?"

I just spent the last three hours at the computer writing, returning emails, and finishing this blog post. My body wasn't active, but my mind sure was. My kitchen and bathrooms are still not spotless, my living room, office, and bedroom are in various states of dishevelment, but I AM keeping busy, just not in the same way others might be. I have different priorities.

As much as I recognize that priorities can be vastly different from person to person, however, I will probably always struggle with self-acceptance.

Lazy Like a Dog?

So, I'll step over a pile of stuff-to-go-through on my bedroom or office floor, and I'll head instead towards my computer to write a poem, blog, short story, or editorial. I'll sit down on the couch to read a book or finish a crocheting project. I'll fit in thee occasional bike ride or walk, and perhaps I'll even join my overly energetic husband with the gardening on occassion (yes! he does that, too!).

Oh. One more thing. Priorities can be funny little buggers. While I might not prioritize vacuuming, cooking, cleaning, etc., you'd better believe I will always MAKE time anyplace, anywhere to talk to a friend for hours, plan and go on vacations, or just go out to listen to music or a comedy show. If that makes me lazy, I guess I'm guilty. Life is too short to pretend you are something you are not.