“I think of myself as something of a connoisseur of procrastination, creative and dogged in my approach to not getting things done.” ~ Susan Orlean, journalist and author
I keep this image on my desk and it keeps me sane in my writing life. I love the art and humor of Gemma Correll (@gemmacorrell), who voices millennial life in the same way cartoonist Cathy Guisewite (@cathygwite) voiced baby boomer life for career women navigating the new rules of feminism. Procrastination is on my mind this week as I was chatting this morning with a few women friends about how difficult it is to do nothing. Now, my nothing might look different from your version of nothing but it’s taken me many years and much personal growth to be able to enjoy doing nothing.
It’s not that my ability to do nothing is to be applauded, but I think it is note-worthy. And that is because I can do nothing and not feel guilty. I can procrastinate and not worry about it. And that is most likely the result of my ‘nothing’ being filled with lots of invisible happenings. My nothing might look like meditation. It might look like me staring off into space while I rewrite scenes in my head. It might look like a much-needed afternoon nap. It might look like me allowing the dust bunnies to wink at me without my internal white-gloved critic rising to scold.
When I was a child I loved to read, and Nancy Drew mysteries were my favorite to consume from cover to cover. My mother would call me lazy if I were sitting too long reading. That word lazy stung, and carried within the seeds of not doing enough, of simply not being enough. I couldn’t understand how folding the laundry could be more important than finding out if Nancy ever solved the mystery of the hidden staircase. And I still can’t. My priorities, once I’m deep in a book, or deep in my writing, remain with the story. And that parallels my life. It is the story, the one I am creating and living that deserves my time, my heart and my presence. And only I can know what that entails.
My years in the corporate world were filled with productivity, and procrastination. And I was well-rewarded for that productivity. It was a trap that caught me unawares. A trap, because the rewards of productivity meant taking on more and more responsibility, and that meant I procrastinated on taking care of myself. And, as I emerged from childhood feeling less than enough, I basked in the praise. The thought of saying no never entered my mind, until exhaustion brought me to a halt, and I began the personal journey to heal. And in that I learned an important truth - that nothing in life is ever wasted. Not a single second. Every experience is leading to the next co-created moment that is my life unfolding. And often the ones I thought wasted turned out to be the most important ones of all.
As a writer, I have become best friends with procrastination. I’ve learned that some of my ideas need to steep until they reach fullness. And others are meant to be wisps that float by but needn’t be caught. The wisdom of mastering habits found in books that speak to the desire for efficiency and productivity, talk about tomorrow. But there is no tomorrow. Not really. There is only ever today. In the fullness of each day I continue the co-creation with Divine Love. I continue to make appointments for future days honoring what Eckhart Tolle called psychological time. But, by living in the present, procrastination becomes actions of choice. And it is only the inner voice filled with shoulds that causes distress.
It takes practice to hear my own voice over the echoes of shoulds that still pop up. But if I identify why I might choose to forego something until a later time, then I free myself from the negative connotations associated with procrastination. It’s a choice made. And if the only distress comes from an inner thought that the choice made is a less worthy one, it comes from old ideas and beliefs of what has value. To everything there is a moment, what I think of as Divine timing. I trust in that. I trust in knowing when the moment is right. I trust that no moment is missed.
Wishing you many moments of presence.
With love,
Cathleen
It's funny, just the other day I was looking at an old blog post of mine called, "What kind of procrastinator are you?" I'll have to share the cartoon on Notes and tag you. 😉
Anyway, I find this subject fascinating because we do beat ourselves up, don't we? But especially in this day and age of do-do-do and technology, I find the act of pausing, both a joy and a moment where I must force myself to be still!
Dear Cathleen, these are such tender, wise reflections on the quiet power of doing "sweet" (I had to borrow Pam's word!) nothing. I love how you name the invisible work that happens beneath stillness. Your words feel like permission to breathe again.
In amongst my books downstairs I have one of those adult colouring books and when I decide I need to do nothing, I often find myself gently colouring trees, birds and flowers and suddenly an hour has passed. Thank you for this gentle reframing. 🙏💖