A healthful dose of laziness

In my family, laziness was not A but THE capital sin. My father could not tolerate it in anyone, and both my parents were workoholics (my mother has turned all that into OCD cleaning habits). All four of us kids have had to grapple with this trait, not being able to relax or be idle without succumbing to anxiety, and I tend to keep busy even at rest time to keep the anxiety at bay.

I was thinking about my busy-ness the day before yesterday, even in this time of joblessness and being far from all the community that used to keep me involved, and realized that I would make lists of things to do in my day that were not necessarily useful. I had the realization that I wasn't running around getting things done, I was running away from idleness, this knot of anxiety in the pit of my stomach was my fear of not having anything to do. Realizations are powerful things, a simple idea can have dramatic effects on the body and the soul.

Since then, in recognition of the idea, my body seems to have let go, and me with it. I have been struck by a massive dose of laziness, la flemme (phlegme?), farniente. And I admit it's been therapeutic. I still do things, but slowly, and then take a nap. I spend time just lavishing Emmett, who has visited the local pet grooming shop "Love Overboard" and is now a cloud of silky-soft fuzz. I actually caught myself looking at the screen while watching TV (watching TV!) And... I'm not blogging quite as regularly, am I?