As I’ve gotten closer to my senior years, I’ve become lazy. For most people that may not seem like a major revelation or a big deal, for me that’s a colossal shift from the way I’ve lived most of my life. I’ve always been like the rolling stone gathering no moss, on the move constantly flitting from one project to another. For me, sitting idly leads to boredom, guilt or even fears of falling behind. If something isn’t getting done that means overwhelm later when too many deadlines hit at once. I’m still getting things done, on time I might add. So what makes me think this is laziness? How am I defining laziness? And what I’m perceiving, is this a good or bad thing? Maybe it’s ok if I slow it down a notch or two. Maybe my perspectives could use adjusting.
[And as you read, please keep in mind that the reflection questions that I pose were from a pre-trained mindset.]
Thinking back to when my kids were younger, I’m noticing that I have strong perceptions around laziness. Homework or chores not getting done gnawed at my sense of responsibility. Was I adequately teaching them how to be responsible? My dis-ease with these situations amplified each time teachers informed us that homework wasn’t getting done or on-time, or neat enough, or reflected their capability. Were teachers letting me know just to keep me in the loop? My brain latched on to “mom, get on the ball, your kid isn’t doing the work or the quality of work expected.”
My son often flaunts his lazy traits. “Why put in effort if you don’t need to?” or something to that effect is his motto. I could ask him, but I’d likely get a smart-ass reply, so we’ll keep this blog between us. He begrudgingly admits that with a touch more effort, his capabilities could have gotten him into more prestigious universities and scholarship options. While that’s probably true, he ended up a big fish in a very large university pond graduating at the top of his class and doing quite well professionally. Emotional growth and maturity guided him to apply effort to the parts of his life where needed while allowing him to defer back to his self-described laziness to recharge his personal life.
Then there was my daughter. If you’ve been following my blogs for a while, I’ve mentioned that my daughter was diagnosed with ADD at the age of 6 or thereabouts. I don’t believe at the time they diagnosed it as ADHD despite her main traits being attention difficulties with extreme hyperactivity. How could a child be lazy and hyperactive? How could she have attention deficit when she had intense hyperfocus watching and creating her own video games? How could she not have the energy (or desire) to make her bed when she couldn’t walk down a hallway in school without jumping numerous times attempting to touch the ceiling or climb something she wasn’t supposed to? How could she be lazy and have so much energy? This was frustratingly perplexing for me.
In her mind, this was a neat backpack. I know where everything is mom!
I’m aware I need to be gentler with myself looking back at the ways I responded when she/they were young. I realize now my toolkit was underfilled. When the pediatrician confirmed the suspected diagnosis, he informed me that we now had the “right” to request an IEP under Section 504 of the Federal Rehabilitation Act, in other words, go develop an academic plan with the elementary school. That was the extent of guidance and education. Her IEP or Individualized Education Program plan pretty much boiled down to a few classroom accommodations and a triplicate prescription.
Why can’t she just work harder? She has an extraordinary IQ, yet her work sometimes doesn’t reflect that. Oy her backpacks and lockers. My head would reel when she opened either. My organizational tendencies would try to work with her on getting the old, ripped, rumpled papers out and keeping classwork sorted for easier locating. Yeah, those adjustments lasted a day or so. Was she too lazy to toss what she didn’t need? How difficult is it to file papers into subject or class folders to keep them neat and hand them in on time? Apparently organization was very difficult for her. Why bother? She knew where everything was. Kind of.
Despite my brain’s perception, I recognize after lots of reading and training, that these weren’t signs of laziness at all. Unlike my son who owns up to his “I don’t wanna” or “I don’t feel like it” attitude, the effort for her to fit into my or the teachers’ paradigms of how a student should act, organize, deliver was monumental. Looking back at the level of focus and determination it took for her to keep her room tidy for an entire year so that she could select the family vacation, (she chose Ireland in case you’re wondering), it actually blows my mind. Doesn’t that mean that she was capable? This feat proved that she knew what to do and how to do it. This confirmed the messiness was laziness afterall? Or was there something else going on? One thing was certain, my world and hers were definitely not in alignment. Chaotic messes sent my brain into a tailspin, she simply didn’t notice them or care.
As she reached her pre-teen to teenage years, laziness took on a whole new meaning. Napping took up a good bit of her time. How could she be so tired? How could she be this lazy when there was so much to do? Large, complex homework loads. Teen experiences to enjoy. I get it now. Negotiating with and through an overstimulated brain and hyperactivity during waking hours is exhausting. Decision fatigue, maintaining attention on uninteresting material, conforming to societal and parental expectations must be a brain and body drain. I often joke that we’re given a finite energy reserve to allocate throughout our lives. She used most of hers up during her first 5 years of life-running, sprinting, climbing, chasing, jumping, and definitely not napping. These days, she has to continually extract from a depleted reserve pool. Despite it all, she graduated at the top of her university class. Parents, there is hope.
Gratefully both of my kids are excelling at their jobs (knock on wood), and applying their off-work hours to recharge. Viewing doing what is necessary to recharge as vital to optimal physical and emotional health, feels more accepting than chalking it up to laziness. Admittedly, it’s easier when they’re not living with you. Using whatever tools and mechanisms work best for them to execute their professional tasks, even if that’s a messy desk or computer screen, then so be it. They grew up in an organized household, they saw how it was done. They proved they could do it. Whether they choose to embrace that lifestyle is up to them.
Is what I’m doing for myself laziness or taking deliberate time to recharge? When I opt to forgo an event or training opportunity, is that laziness or discernment? Personal and societal challenges are definitely consuming more of my energy reserves than I’d like to donate. Concerted efforts to protect my mental health can be draining too. Maybe this perceived laziness isn’t detrimental, namely if done with balance.
Is laziness misunderstood? Is it a bad thing? I suspect it depends upon how it’s defined and the context in how the laziness shows up. If I block out my weekends for relaxation refusing to look at professional work, is that lazy or self-preservation? Most times when my clients describe themselves as lazy, in actuality, they’re simply exhausted from overflowing schedules.
Here are more questions for consideration to expand awareness around the behaviors.
- What is the benefit of the behavior?
- Is the behavior a self-regulating mechanism?
- Does the person simply want to be left alone to do their own thing on their own time?
- Is the outcome appreciated or causing internal or external disruption?
- What are the costs of the behavior continuing?
- What are the advantages of shifting the behavior?
- Can it be shifted with training, tools, and understanding?
- Is there room to grant allowances for differing expectations?
- What options are available to address concerns arising from the behavior or unmet expectations?
- Who needs to get on board?
- Who can you turn to for a diagnosis, resources, support?
I’m certain there are many more questions, and again depending upon context, the degree and immediacy to which shifts need to occur will depend upon circumstances. For example, if a child is failing a class or multiple classes because they’re not doing the work, this requires immediate intervention. Consult with the teacher, school counselor, pediatrician, and mental health professional for guidance. Cast your net as wide as possible for multiple perspectives. I heard many times from the schools that my daughter was lazy. Their perspective confirmed my own beliefs. However, that didn’t necessarily mean they were accurate. ADHD meds demonstrated that once her brain chemicals were adjusted her diligence, focus, neatness, timeliness, social interactions were all boosted. Conversely, if it’s a matter of beds not being made, the approach will be completely different.
How do we weigh responsibilities against perceived laziness? I defer back to one of my usual mantras regarding balance. If the pendulum swings too far either way, the results are often undesirable. Find balance between the doing and the being, you’re more likely to find peace. Once again, this is advice to yours truly too.
I’m so grateful to both of my kids for granting permission to use them as examples!
