On the virtues of doing less
Today is apparently Lazy Day. I am not entirely sure who declared it, but I am certainly not going to investigate.
If I meet someone new these days and they ask me—after some small talk—what I do, I say, “Nothing.”
Then I watch their faces with amusement as they either look confused or embarrassed. Usually, if the host is around, he or she launches into a short speech summarising my CV. And sometimes adds, almost apologetically, “He writes these days.”
The person looks relieved and asks, “Ah! So you are writing a book?”
I smile and say, “No. I am too lazy—and besides, does anyone read books anymore?”
My wife does not like my response to such questions and says, “Our daughter writes fiction—for children…”
So the topic shifts and I make my escape.
There is something liberating about saying “nothing.”
We have become remarkably uncomfortable with it.
Ask someone how they are and the answer is often, “Crazy busy!” It is almost said with pride.
Our calendars are full, our phones are never silent, and even leisure has become something to be scheduled.
Perhaps laziness deserves better public relations.
Bertrand Russell certainly thought so. In In Praise of Idleness, he argued that leisure was not a vice but an essential part of a civilised life.
Oscar Wilde had a more mischievous approach:
“I never put off till tomorrow what I can possibly do—the day after.”
There is also a practical side to laziness.
A lazy person is naturally suspicious of unnecessary effort.
Why do this? Why do it this way? Is there an easier way?
A surprising amount of technology can probably be explained by that instinct. The wheel, the washing machine, the remote control and food delivery are all monuments to the human desire to avoid unnecessary effort.
And then there is the professional compromise one has to make. I have to pretend to be busy sometimes —so that I can charge people who want to pick my “brains” and are also likely to bore me to death.
One has to maintain some boundaries around one’s laziness, after all!
But perhaps laziness is not merely about avoiding work. It is also about creating empty space.
Reading a book without trying to learn something. Listening to music without doing anything else. Taking a walk without counting the steps. Drinking coffee without photographing it.
Or simply sitting and doing nothing.
So today, on Lazy Day, perhaps we should give ourselves permission to be gloriously unproductive for a while.
Tomorrow, we can get back to being busy.
Or perhaps the day after.
