March 5th, 2002

Ruminations on Lethargy

The moments I waste are the most precious. The energy squandered with idle repast is the pure vitality that could have fulfilled a cherished goal. When I sit, seconds, minutes, and hours slipping into oblivion, untended dreams and wants pine away at my envisioned future. My ambition and spirit devise many solutions to my mundane reality, they provide sustenance for my fickle imagination and trickle like adrenaline into the corners of my soul.

But when the opportunity to develop such solutions, to grow and nourish them into a fruition that could change my very existence, that could alter everything that I do and bring into daylight my shadowy desires arrives, it is then that lethargy, that most vile form of procrastination devours my will and tarnishes my efforts to something so very lackluster I can not lay claim to pride.

There is an element within my mind that knows that were I to truly focus upon my skills and generate physical reality of my inventiveness and creativity, my lot in this world would be much grander, and my hopes of achieving something that can fill my heart with that needed sense of worthiness would be fortified.

I fear though, that I draft as much effort for my ideas in all their duplicitous wonder as I do for my work.

The notable Edison once said that invention is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration. I believe he may very well be accurate, for all my plans, I have little to show. Perhaps the largest impediment to overcoming the dreaded lethargy is the part of me and the words of others, who say I have done well, that I have achieved already that which others struggle to do. These words are eagerly swallowed up by the elements within me that host the lethargy, that are content to rest on my laurels, such as they are. But I know that if I have achieved a respectable sustenance without struggling for it, then through toil can I not achieve much more? Can I not realize the dreams within me through focused effort and driven ambition?

I see things I have written one year ago, two years ago, describing plans and time frames I hope to complete them in. I watch as month after month leaves me no closer than the last. But without working on these plans, I cannot expect to see progress.

It may be a simple case of inertia, but once in a while I make strides and the gears and works advance slowly forward. Why then does the habit stall? Why does it not set a pace I keep? Is it a lack of will, or motivation? Even answering these questions will not provide me with what I need to set myself upon the task. This problem has plagued me for years. In school I would not do homework and I would not study for tests. Far easier to watch bad television or peruse and lurk about the Lykaion. Far easier to hang out with friends and complain that our lives are the same mundane existence that we hold such contempt for.

But there is a grain of hope in the sand dunes of channel surfing, web surfing, and dream surfing. A glistening moment when I felt I accomplished something. So excellent did that taste that I think I might yet overcome this southern style malaisse. I once enjoyed that subtle flavor in the company of friends. We were together united in a common goal. That sense of belonging and purpose gave me access to strength that now sits dormant. In this most delectible tasting, I now suspect I might develop quite a hunger for it. I now prepare myself to drive out the lethargy, to outdo myself, and to use my moments more wisely. Every time that I feel myself let go and dismiss my goals for tomorrow, I will think about that acute sensation, and I will stand back up, and go to work anew. This is my resolve, and it is this new will that I wish to share.