The True Fear

One of my biggest fears is that I’m actually just a lazy person. Sure, I have a lot of big dreams for myself, but I get almost as much joy from thinking about these dreams as I do from taking actual, concrete steps toward realizing them. I’m very good at spacing out, thinking big things, then switching on Netflix or tunneling down a YouTube rabbit hole (this time, the algorithm served up a video series about Canadian stealth camping that I’m obsessed with now) — otherwise, spending a good chunk of my limited time on this earth passively consuming rather than productively…producing? Part of this issue comes down to simple astrology. I’m a Pisces sun sign. It was written in the stars at the time of my birth that I would find a certain easy solace in creative escapism. But I would be remiss if I didn’t also attribute this comfort with thoughtful inaction to my struggles with anxiety.

In high school and college, I was a notorious procrastinator. I left every essay until the night before it was due and spent a Red Bull-fueled eight hours cramming in a month’s worth of research and writing. I know I’m definitely not the only student who has done this for a majority of projects, even major ones, so maybe that’s why I never tried too hard to change the habit. Everyone else at the library was staying until 2 a.m., drinking coffee or energy drinks, tap-tap-tapping away at some kind of paper or thesis or lab report or whatever it was the non-Liberal Arts majors had to do (calculus? organic chem? at least one bullshit gen ed that included at least one paper). Also, I didn’t really have to change the habit in order to get good grades. My grades were fine, even great. I knew I could procrastinate and maintain my status quo, so it was easy for me to indulge in more instant gratification by going out during the week and saving all the homework for late Sunday night. Of course, those Sunday nights were brutal. But I got through them, graduated with a high GPA, and yeah, never thought about grades again because they didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things (you know, if anything really matters in the grand scheme of things).

And, though I’m a few years past even grad school at this point, working a full-time job with some freelance gigs on the side — I still goddamn procrastinate! I never miss a deadline, but I’m still kind of addicted to that tug-and-pull feeling of equal parts relief and anxiety that can’t be induced more astutely than by pushing off a project till the next day.

So, what has this got to do with my fear of being lazy? No, I don’t think people who procrastinate are lazy. And with this blog entry, I’m not trying to advocate for some kind of toxic hustle culture that prioritizes working over mental health and well-being. These are actually good subjects for another entry down the line — maybe about the nature of work and our relationship to it in a globalized, late-Capitalist economy? I just read The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand for the first time and have THOUGHTS (don’t worry, I followed it up with a re-read of The Communist Manifesto to balance out the ideological propaganda, man-as-an-end-to-himself, indeed, Sure Jan).

What I’m trying to say here is that my fear about being lazy isn’t actually a fear about being lazy. I know I’m not lazy. I set up challenges for myself on a monthly basis in order to improve some aspect of my life or learning. So far, I’ve successfully completed 30 days of yoga each day; 30 days of no take-out; and 30 days of writing at least 250 words per day — which actually resulted in the first short story of mine I’ve written and haven’t hated in a good while. Currently, I’m in the process of another 30-day writing challenge. And even this blog is a challenge, as I’m hoping to complete 52 blogs in the next year, one blog per week. I’m also a very consistent reader and runner, which has kept me very healthy, both mentally and physically, for a big part of my adulthood.

So, I’m not lazy. That fear of laziness is just masking the true fear — that I will fail if I try for what I really want. In high school, in college, in grad school, at work, big and important projects were/are incredibly intimidating. Instead of facing these challenges head-on, it felt easier in the moment to wait, push it off, tackle it another day — perhaps a day when I’d have no choice but to tackle it because time was running out. I’d backed myself into a corner and that corner was responsible for finally getting me to do what I could have, or should have, done much earlier: Get. To. Work.

And, even if I made the deadline, even if the project came back with a good result despite the time crunch, what procrastinating gave me was worth the weeks of stomach-churning anxiety with which I paid for it. Procrastinating gave me the excuse that I could have done better if only I had given myself enough time. Whether I passed or failed, if I procrastinated, I still had the chance to believe that had I not procrastinated, my work could have been — no, would have been — that much more illuminating, original, funny, great. Except, I never cashed in on that belief. I never gave myself enough time the next time a due date loomed, near or far, in my future. I chose to live on that sense of promised potential instead of finding out what I was really capable of.

Even though I’m mostly talking about school papers here, I can extrapolate this issue of procrastination to other, much bigger, parts of my life. I can say, pretty honestly, that I don’t want to hide behind procrastination anymore. I don’t want to waste my potential because I’m afraid that the promise of it I’ve banked on for so long isn’t actually worth as much as I thought it might be. I want to start giving myself enough time. I want to stop making excuses.

What does that ultimately mean then, you might be asking (if you’ve made it this far, bless you). Well, it means that I’m going to be making some pretty big decisions soon. I’m taking the first step in giving myself the gift of failing, because failing is ultimately trying. And I’m finally ready to let myself try really hard for what I really want.

Thanks, as always, for reading.

X

Sam