After a particularly busy period of time at my full time job, I exchanged messages with 2 colleagues wishing them both a quiet and peaceful weekend. The phrase “luxuriously lazy” came to mind and has been gnawing at me since.
In American culture, or at least in my personal experiences, from the time you hit high school (or even sooner) you are measured by your output. What’s your GPA? How many sports do you play? What chair are you in the orchestra? Did you hear back from your college applications? How did the internship interview go? Did that job work out? Are you volunteering at your church or temple or mosque? Did you update your LinkedIn? When are you getting your Masters Degree?
And so on and so on. Before I continue, it should be noted that these are all worthy pursuits. I loved my time as a student-athlete, appreciated the experience of different internships, and feel so grateful for the opportunity to pursue higher education. That said, so many of these things have built us as people who are disproportionately accustomed and addicted to output.
What does doing xyz do for me? We start making subconscious trades. This helps with that. That looks good on a resume. This supports that. That will make us “successful.” And so on and so on. And eventually, we start to build our worth on the output. We start to define our value by how much we can accomplish in a day instead of who we are as a person.
But there is more to life than outputs.
And there is more to you than your resume or your checklist. What is it worth if at the end of the day you can’t appreciate the simplicity of a luxuriously lazy Sunday morning? What is it worth if the only time you let your brain rest you spiral into a panic of “not doing enough.”
What if you could recognize that showing up is enough? What if we took a more holistic approach to our lives. It’s not just about the measured and tangible accomplishments. Sometimes our biggest successes are the internal changes and realizations we come to quietly and without fanfare in the late hours of a Tuesday night, sitting on the floor in a nightgown, surrounded by a notebook and a pile of dreams.
So maybe this “laziness” isn’t laziness at all. And, maybe it’s not a luxury either, but rather a necessity. You deserve ease. You deserve rest. And you are exactly what you need to be. Right now. As is. Always.
Love always,
Liz
