** This post was a direct consequence of the conversation I had with Mayowa (who is worse than I am) some time ago. Not least I also have Tunrayo to thank for making me pick up the pen again. I wrote it for both of them.
“Sometimes I drive so fast – just to feel the danger… it makes me feel alive” – Avril Lavigne
I am lazy – or so I have been made to believe. All my life, countless people that I had encounters with have tagged me “lazy”. From parents to relatives to friends and other well-wishers, they say it hoping I’d change my ways. They were wrong! You see, laziness was my respite, it was the perfect excuse. Early on, I realized I couldn’t fight it for long so I grew comfortable with the name tag. Like a duck in a puddle, it gave me my space and I’d rather wallow in my muck than put up with someone else’s dump. And it worked for me. It made my triumphs sweeter and my failures less painful. Either way, I didn’t put much effort in it, or did I?
I loved watching my peers seemingly up ahead of me; I relished seeing the look on their faces when they see me catch up with them and I savored those moments when they acknowledged that I was different. You see, different was all I ever wanted to be. And in laziness I found solace.
I have been chided for this attitude and mocked for my indolence. It’s a “dog eat dog” world they say, one has to be competitive to thrive. This misaligned cliché amuses me because in our continuum with time we are still too blind to see the obvious – it wasn’t the fittest that survived, it was the adaptable. And we lazy people know just how to get by. Ever wondered how the turtle outlived the whale?
Living made me meet other lazy people. I quickly realized that I wasn’t like them. I could not keep my room clean for long because I was always looking for something. They never searched for anything, their lives was a series of “going through the motions” phases. They were hardcore lazy. I wasn’t fit to be a part of that group. So I left and found another joy in “disorder” or “chaos” as I prefer to call it.
This mind is only sane when it’s working; I am happier when I’m thinking many thoughts. Maybe that’s why twitter seems more fun when I’m driving and studying becomes easier as I write poetry. Chaos is an intimacy to me. I love doing things at speed, thus whenever there’s something to be done; I stall until I have to rush. Even then I don’t rush, that feeling is best described as a pulsating relief since I’m finally doing what I have to do. I live for such moments.
You could say that I have little ambition, I wouldn’t be embarrassed. I’ve heard it before. Goal setting seldom worked for me so I don’t bother about being first in anything. All I care about is to do an awesome job of it…every time. I call this mindfulness. Contrary to what’s popular, I have no purpose in life other than living – a mindful life of just doing awesome stuff. You see what I did there? No yardsticks, no space for failure 🙂
Leke Alder defined success as the fulfillment of purpose. Can success exist where there’s no purpose? I’m about to find out…
**PS: It wasn’t easy to write this because the subject evolved to something very personal. If you knew me, you’d know that I hardly think straight (no pun intended). I still think that the shortest distance between two points is a curve (pun intended).