Truth from the Heart: laziness

Laziness or Leisure?

12:23:00 PMCatherine Yanko

A few days ago someone asked me what I do with all of my free time this summer. My response was something pretty similar to this:

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I realized that the amount of free time I have had this summer does not correspond to how rejuvenated I feel. Yes, I have plenty of time to rest but I still don’t feel alive. Honestly, I have been more exhausted this summer than I ever was during the school year. Idleness became my highest ambition in response to a previously busy school year. By being asked this question, I realized I have abandoned my aspirations of true leisure for what is really mere laziness.

An idea of leisure advocated for by Josef Pieper in his book “Leisure: The Basis of Culture” has been one that I have since found incredibly fulfilling. Pieper says, “For leisure is a receptive attitude of mind, a contemplative attitude, and it is not only the occasion but also the capacity for steeping oneself in the whole of creation” (41). Not exactly the “Netflix and chill” kind of mentality that so many (me included) savor. This view of leisure arises from the innate capacity of fulfillment on account of the humanity of each person. “Because wholeness is what man strives for, the power to achieve leisure is one of the fundamental powers of the human soul” (44). This destiny of wholeness is what calls man into leisure and also helps shape what exactly can qualify as authentic leisure. To achieve this wholeness we strive for, Pieper says that man cannot give consent of his own will to his being over that of existential reality (38). Man will never find wholeness within his mere self. Leisure responds to the existential reality of our person and achieves the wholeness spoken of by Pieper.

The problem of the scarcity of leisure is not that opportunities do not present themselves, but rather that man is not capable of leisure. For such an incredible experience of leisure, this certainly requires a respective mentality.Leisure as advocated for by Pieper is not just one’s spare time but has to be a constant mental and spiritual attitude (40). In this view, leisure becomes the center of every human life. Persons must learn to be still. In stillness, one can foster the capacity to receive the reality of the world. It is not a kind of busyness but a form of silence that allows reality to impact one’s being. A leisurely attitude has the ability to overstep the boundaries of the workaday world and live in the reality of existential forces that have the ability to refresh and renew us (44). One must work in order to have leisure instead of living to work (20). This mindset capable of leisure has no room for a narrow egocentrism, shallow busyness, or dedicated workaholism.

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This laziness, also known as acedia, is said to be the antithesis of leisure by Pieper. In “A Brief Reader on the Virtues of the Human Heart”, Pieper says that acedia is the spiritual attitude, “that he closes himself to the demand that arises from his own dignity, that he is not inclined to claim for himself the grandeur that is imposed on him with his essence’s God-given nobility of being” (51). At first this to be a dramatic over-statement on Netflix binging tendencies. But, really I do not think it is that far off. When I spend my day watching Netflix am I finding any sort of fulfillment? I do not finish binging on Netflix or scrolling through social media for hours and exclaim, “I AM SO GLAD TO BE ALIVE!”. Yes, I have something to do and am somewhat entertained but the contentedness does not compare with the exhilarating nature of leisure. When acedia becomes a habit, Pieper says that man becomes incapable of leisure (52). Habitual acedia leads man to forget what it means to be truly alive, what it means to be fulfilled in his/her existence as a person. Personally, when I go on a Netflix binging and sleeping in all day streak I find it harder and harder to respond to things that can fulfill me. I do not look at the beauty of the sunset with the same wonder I do when I am living in a spirit of leisure.

As abstract as Pieper’s view of authentic leisure sounds, I really believe it can translate to daily life. It starts in a contemplative attitude: one that seeks to be aware of their surroundings and allow them to impact their being. It is so easy to pass by a mom kissing her child’s wounded knee, the leaves changing colors, or brother’s playing basketball together, without taking a second to simply appreciate the beauty of the sight. For Pieper, “leisure draws its vitality from affirmation” (42).This means that in beholding those sights previously listed, we should take a moment to simply recognize them. To be thankful for their beauty and for the virtue that the sights enkindle. It is in simple affirmation of what is beautiful, true, and good that man can learn to be leisurely again. Seeing the “amber waves of grain”, “purple mountain majesties”, or “fruited plane” and declaring to oneself, “this is beautiful” or “this is good” is what Pieper means when he speaks of affirmation. In regards to my exorbitant amount of free time, I have learned that I can spend it doing activities that seek out encounters that have in them this quality of leisure. I can go on hikes and behold the beauty of nature. I can hang out with my friends at brunch on Sunday morning and revel in the glory of friendship. I can read a book that helps me to delve into the human experience or that enlightens me of a truth that in turn enkindles wonder. It is in this spirit of leisure that I will find fulfillment this summer.

featured Hildebrand laziness

How to Fall in Love with Life Again: Escaping our Laziness for the World of Values

6:00:00 AMAnonymous

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The summer season is a time of so much beauty. In Northwest Ohio, everything is a lush green. When the pollen isn’t busy irritating your eyes, you can clearly see nature at the pinnacle of its development. The tiny buds on the trees and plants springing up from the ground have become fully developed leaves and blossoms, hailing the coming of humidity and heat. Have you ever noticed that lovely shade of green when the sunshine is penetrating a leaf? It becomes the warmest, lightest shade of green that is particular to the summer.

Surrounded by so much beauty, so much color, why do I often find my zeal for life decaying before my very eyes? Sometimes I find life slipping into the color grey. I let it happen. School gets out for the summer, I lose my drive and my focus, and I sign up for a free trial of Netflix (which I don’t recommend if you’re seeking to be productive or fun/social). When I come home for the summer, I find that I have a strange tendency to stop living. I stop feeding my intellect, stop making time to enjoy the “little things” that bring me delight, all for the sake of relaxing. Of course, I am a huge proponent of enjoying quality leisure. Amidst the hustle and bustle of modernity, leisure is a simple way to stay grounded in what is beautiful and enjoyable in life. But too much “leisure” can lead to laziness, and laziness so often leads to unhappiness.

Here, it becomes necessary to distinguish between true leisure, and when what we may like to call “leisure” has slipped into lethargy. For other German Catholic thinkers like Hildebrand, such as Josef Pieper, leisure is esteemed as being one of the foundational elements of culture and civilization (Leisure, 1). This (perhaps surprising) concept is not new. Thinkers as early as Aristotle commonly held leisure in a place of importance in daily life, as he points out in the first chapter of his Metaphysics. But what is leisure? It is so far removed from our modern notion of “leisure,” which usually implies multiple forms of binging (food, drink, television) in your sweatpants all day. True leisure in Aristotle’s and Pieper’s sense of the word is more closely compared to the Christian concept of the contemplative life (Leisure, 2). With contemplation being the nearest equivalent to leisure, one can see that there is a sort of intentional, hyper-awareness of the value sphere and the types of importance (so often hailed by Hildebrand) entailed by enjoying leisure. Leisure is not “Netflix and chill.” It is: “how can I appropriately savor the beauty of this moment, of this day, of this life?”

But, more often than not, I neglect true leisure and opt for mere laziness – too much laziness.

Human persons are designed for purpose. We are goal-oriented. Speaking from my own perspective, whenever I find myself losing sight of any larger meaning or purpose for the things that I am doing, I start to feel a little…lost – as if I have become completely disoriented as to any sense of direction. The engine stalls. I find myself at a stand still.

It is during these “stand stills” that I often find myself slipping into a numbing laziness rather than redirecting my energies towards something new. Think about your own life – isn’t this true for so many of us? When was the last time you did something for the first time? Tried something new? When was the last time you allowed yourself to be truly affected by something; moved by a beautiful piece of music that you’ve never heard before, or struck by the scenic overlook in the midst of a hike? Hopefully, unlike me, you can say that you’ve experienced these things rather recently. If not, I would like to suggest that perhaps we need to look at the heart of the issue. Why do we so often fall into these mindless slumbers?

Our ability to be affected or impressed by something is both a blessing and a profound challenge. As Dietrich von Hildebrand poses for us, “through this channel come seduction, moral poisoning, blunting, narrowing, and cramping, as well as moral elevation, purification, enrichment, widening and liberation” (Life Guide, 16). There is a whole world of value and enriching beauty to be grasped by the human person. This life leaves its mark on us. If we cut ourselves off from new experiences or encounters with the world of values (or worse – if we allow ourselves to be affected by things that degrade the realm of values), then can we really say that we’re living? We begin to give way to our unruly passions in an attempt to feel something since we are no longer being affected by noble things. We lock ourselves in these closets where the rays of the sun cannot reach us.

We live as though it’s bitter winter in the midst of golden summer.

Once we snap out of the Netflix-binging, Pinterest-obsessing, sleep-craving haze, how does one begin to fall in love with life again? I think that the profound moment of change comes when one realizes that the world of values demands a response from us. This gives us purpose; this presents to us a meaning; this restores our zeal for experiencing life.

Taking this a step further, Hildebrand explains how this not only helps us to live life richly, but how to experience true freedom as a result. Rather than becoming enslaved to the shades of grey we are tempted to surround ourselves with, we can be made aware of “the cooperative role of man’s freedom with respect to being affected. We can abandon ourselves to this experience, we can open our soul in its very depth, we can expose our soul to the action of the value; or we can close ourselves…we can counteract it” (21).

Life as experienced by the human person is constantly presenting us with these choices. We can allow life (or value, more specifically) to touch us and affect us deeply, or we can counteract it but numbing ourselves through laziness and lethargy. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of “counteracting” my own happiness.

It’s summertime.

The world is full of color.

And I'm so done with grey.

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change cheese Dr. Spencer Johnson

On Cheese and Change

10:42:00 AMVeronica Buehnerkemper

More often than I really care to admit, I’ll be sitting on my bed working and then realize I need something across the room. Forgetting to grab it in the first place isn’t what’s embarrassing. Rather, it’s the fact that I refuse to get out of bed to get what I need. Instead of swinging my feet off the bed and walking across the room, I’ll lie down on my stomach and reach as far as I can, teetering on the edge of the mattress. It’s even better when my roommate does it from a lofted bed. It would have taken half the effort and much less risk to just get out of bed in the first place.

Why is it that we are so set on staying in one place that we pay no attention to our other options? Sure, most often it’s easier to just reach for a book on your bedside table. But why are we willing to risk falling off the bed to stay where we are and not put in the effort to just get up and take what we need?

The answer is simple: We don’t like change.

One of the most significant contributions to our species-wide aversion to change is plain old laziness. It's easier to stay in bed than make our feet hit the floor. But the root of it goes even deeper than that. Our dislike of change goes back to a very human characteristic we all share. Our fear of the unknown.

Dr. Spencer Johnson wrote a book that addresses just this. Who Moved My Cheese? follows the tale of two mice and two small, people-like creatures who all live in a maze together, looking for Cheese which they believe will bring them happiness.

One day, they find a large store of Cheese and settle down, becoming comfortable where they are. And then suddenly the Cheese is gone. Sniff and Scurry, the mice, go in search of New Cheese right away. The mice are proactive, responding to the dwindling pantry by going out to look for a new food supply. Unlike the mice, Hem and Haw, the small people, resist the unanticipated change. Haw eventually realizes that change is needed and isn’t necessarily unjust, but Hem remains stuck in his old ways, becoming more and more intolerable as he refuses to accept and adapt to change.

The story’s focus eventually turns to Haw, who is struggling with the frustration of no longer having any Cheese, and fear of the unknown in the rest of the maze. He realizes that the question he needs to be asked is “What would you do if you weren’t afraid?” (1) He eventually finds the drive and courage to seek New Cheese, and learns many life lessons along the way. Perhaps this simple story illustrates a deeper truth about our own human nature.

Sometimes it takes more work to stay where you are than to just get up and move.

There are areas of our life that we are afraid to change. Circumstances change, plans change, friendships change. People graduate, search for jobs, and move. Life is all about change.

Yet we still resist it. We keep to our old habits, hoping that our Old Cheese will return, persevering through the initial pangs of hunger, only moving on when we feel starvation setting in. We stay in our comfort zones as long as humanly possible, refusing to step out into the unknown until absolutely necessary.

We are faced with a significant dilemma. To satisfy the deep desire within ourselves to stay where we are, or to act on our knowledge that we must change to find true happiness. It has been said that “all morally aspiring men are conscious of the necessity of a purposeful self-education which should cause them to change and to develop. They… reveal a certain readiness to change. But for this, no spiritual and moral growth would exist at all.” (2) Change is necessary for us to move forward. Without acceptance of new scenarios and circumstances, we have a tendency to get stuck in the familiar, to continue to feed the habits which stunt our intellectual, spiritual, and moral growth.

I challenge you to ask yourself: What areas of my life are changing? Where am I resisting change? What is it that holds me back from moving forward with it? Is it the unknown? Frustration? Fear?

We are notorious for overanalyzing and complicating things in our resistance to change. We lose sight of what truly brings us happiness and peace. Sometimes we need to simplify. We need accept change and move forward, sometimes in blind faith. Sometimes we need to be more like Haw, who “[let] go and [trusted] what lay ahead for him, even though he did not know exactly what it was.” (3)