I’ve never considered myself lazy when it comes to work.
I mean, I suppose I don’t have any clue how I’d be with traditional physical work, like driving cattle or digging wells, but in today’s modern setting, I’m a proven cubehand what knows how to ride an ergonomic office chair into career sunset.
In fact, if anything I take work too seriously, devote too much of my time to it. That should be plain to anyone familiar here, as I’ve written reams and reams about my shortcomings and struggles finding the right balance between the non-work and work in my life.
So it surprises me, then, just how strongly I feel that I could keep doing this. Lord, I know I’m wearing this theme thin lately, but it’s so strong on my mind every day. Going back to the only thing I’ve known as work seems almost stupid knowing what I’ve learned.
I’ve learned secrets.
Did you know that you can slow time? That the trees have stories? That your family is a single organism? That you can get there by walking? That water is free? That humans everywhere are beautiful? That our country is otherworldly gorgeous?
Sometimes, when we’re driving through deep rural America, where things are still done with sweat and muscle vs. college degrees and everything seems slower and more deliberate than my life back home, I think maybe I’ve only rediscovered the secret, not really learned it.
It makes me think hard about random things like ways of life that have died or are dying and why people believe what they believe or maybe vote how they vote.
It also makes me think about work, or all I know as work. And, though I don’t consider myself lazy, I must admit I’d choose to keep travelling versus going back hands-down if it were a real option. Some nights in bed I sit and think how long we could keep doing this is we just continued to burn through our savings. If it were that simple maybe I’d do it.
So, maybe I’m lazy. It’s funny, I do chafe at that idea, conditioned as I am by our culture.