The case for being lazy.

As the heat of summer descends on Southern Ontario, I'm preparing to get away for a week's holiday. Half of my to-do list is getting organized for going away - shopping lists, packing lists, who's doing what when lists; the other half of my list is getting my work tasks (such as getting this email written and queued) done so I can unplug for a week, and also planning what needs to happen so I don't have to put too much effort into plugging back in after my holiday. Oh, and the usual work with clients and teaching that is a part of most weeks.

But there's something alarming happening.

As I gear up to gear down, I realize I'm already in holiday mode. Maybe it's the heat affecting my brain, or maybe I'm just much more in need of unplugging than I thought.

So I've decided to embrace holiday mode instead of feeling guilty about it. I realize that I want my holiday to feel like a holiday, not just a week for recovering from the rest of life. And I want to build a life that I don't need to recover from - one that engages me and feeds me. One that not only tolerates and accommodates, but welcomes and embraces the way my energy shifts with the seasons.

This week that means giving myself permission to put down the items on my to-do list that aren't urgent, and heading outside for a cold beverage on the back porch. (Maybe I'll pick them up at some point; maybe never) And realizing that I will not get everything done, and the world will continue to revolve on its axis whether or not everything gets crossed off the list.

And I get to remind myself that this not getting everything done isn't failure - it's recognizing a new aspect of my wholeness. Perhaps being lazy is the most productive thing I can do.

Will you join me?

What can you put down today, without guilt or rationalization?
What parts of you are waiting to be recognized and embraced when you choose to rest or play?
How do you want to feed and sustain your wholeness this week?