On the Benefits of Laziness

Ah, the wonder and glory of laziness. The unparalleled happiness of sitting around doing nothing. The incredible freedom of having no obligations. The power to delegate everything but sleeping and eating to someone else. Wondrous, rejuvenating laziness.

...Now, now, don't freak out immediately. I, of course, don't mean academic laziness or technical laziness. If you knew me in person, trust me, you'd know I would never advocate anything of the sort. But around this time of year my thoughts always turn to vacation and what it means to me.

As a hardcore academic, I've been in school non-stop now for going on twenty years. The academic track I chose found me in a pattern of ever-accelerating obligations, to the point where this winter break is the first span of consecutive free time longer than two days I've had in over a year-and-a-half. Last week also marked the first weekend I'd been able to take in two-and-a-half months. I am not by nature a "lazy" person.

However, it's because of that that I value my free time so much. I jealously guard the days off I can afford to take and will seldom allow them to be infringed upon. What with practice, classes, performances, internships, and the jobs I take to actually pay the rent, 12-16 hours days can become pretty normal during the semester. Actually, given the fact that my summer job was waiting tables at an Irish bar that closed at two in the morning, 12-14 hour days weren't too uncommon during summer break, either. All that stress builds up, and it has to go somewhere.

During the year it usually goes into an extra strenuous practice session--if I can afford to--or a long trip to the gym--if I have the time. But these are both stop-gap measures. At the end of the day, my body just can't be pushed any farther. At the end of the day, one needs some time to stand still.

Peaches and I have been talking about the fact that even the act of standing still is hard. We both want to be moving forward in our craft, and the prevailing opinion is that time spent resting is time wasted, but I would disagree.

A life with no time spent reflecting, no time allowed to process experience or remember what it's like to not live in a place where every moment of every day must be structured, lest one lose an instant of productivity, is a hollow one. If I'm going to use the popular metaphor of my brain being a computer--I only have so much processing power. I can only go for so long before all systems begin to simply freeze up.

I think everyone has experienced this. I have. I know when I'm getting burnt out because the signs of it are everywhere. First to go is any semblance of order in my living space. Now, even in the best of times I live by the sentiment that a disorganized room is a sign of a well-organized mind, but when I begin to shut down, you stop being able to see the floor. Dirty laundry piles up on the floor of the bathroom. Scores and books stop making it back to the bookshelf and instead sit in piles mere feet from their proper places. It's the physical manifestation of beginning to give up. I've started to surrender to the idea that I can't maintain order in my life.

Second to go is my mental health. I stop being social. I can't carry on a conversation with any but my closest friends. I have problems making eye contact or meaningful connections in casual conversations. Then comes the crying. Movies, music, books, an innocently intended word; all are cause for waterworks.

After that, my body follows. I become more and more lethargic, even while I doggedly continue to drag myself to one obligation after the next. My voice--whose salient point is its clarity--begins to get ragged and dull. If I get even close to the lower end of my middle register I will find myself unceremoniously dumped into chest voice.

Lastly, of course, I get sick. My body finds a way to make me shut down and get the rest it needs. I used to do this like clockwork each year right around the same time--pneumonia one year, mono the next, the sinus infections from H-E-double-hockey-sticks two years running after that. Finally I learned the art of shutting down before my body made me do it.

This year, despite what must have been the most ridiculous semester on record--an internship at a B level opera company, my M.M. recital, a role in a mainstage production at my conservatory and twelve auditions on the Northeast coast--I have been healthy as a horse. I owe it all to a newly discovered appreciation of laziness. Okay, and an extremely comprehensive heath insurance plan that allowed me to finally get preventive care for some pre-existing conditions.

Still.

My best friend is a fantastically lazy person, with emphasis on "fantastic." She's an incredible musician and (as if this were even possible!) an even better friend. She is also one of the most enthusiastic nappers I have ever come across. She and I have whiled away countless evenings playing video games, doing word and number puzzles (her) and reading (me.) She places an incredible amount of importance on eating, sleeping, and making time for frivolity. It is, without a doubt, one of the biggest reasons for my continued sanity and productivity.

Yes, productivity.

Here's my point: cultivating laziness is productive if you do it right. Because that unseemly emphasis on rest means that I now don't feel ashamed to insist on my eight to nine hours of sleep per night. Learning how to value the time I spend cooking and eating and playing video games meant I made time for it. I finally learned how to make time for standing still. You know what I figured out? If I make room in my schedule to be lazy, I can fit into eight-to-twelve hours what I used to fit into twelve-to-sixteen. Even better than that, I am a much better colleague when I do it.

***

So as I head toward a Christmas Eve and Day with said best friend and some of my very favorite people along with a week after that spent luxuriously doing nothing, I'll keep in mind that even this beautiful halycon period of laziness is for a purpose. The store of energy I'm going to get from hoarding my resources during this precious week is what will get me through the inevitable disappointments and the rigorous planning that is waiting for me in the new year.

So you can work through your break if you want. You can take the over-extended frantic pace of the rest of your life and carry it with you all the time. I salute you. It takes a stouter heart, body, and mind than mine to bear that kind of a strain. As for me, I'll be over here, raising a glass and laughing with friends and remembering what other uses my heart and brain are good for other than getting ahead; and at the end of it...

It'll be a new year.