Today I woke up at two pm. My eyes were tired, my body was tired, my brain was tired. There was almost nothing that could entice me to remove my lethargic self from those silky warm blankets. The mattress sucked me in, enveloping my shoulders and my legs in a gentle, yet, almost magnetic embrace. One could compare the feeling to a small pebble being dropped into a sweet, intoxicating mug of tea - the liquid pulling it in and wrapping itself around the pebble, lulling it into a soft sleep.
I felt heavy. As I laid there, flashes of my responsibilities piled in my head, weighing me down and pressing against the brim of my skull.
Get up get up get up!!! I would not get up. I was paralyzed with exhaustion and apathy towards the apparent urgency of my work. Why should I have this awful press of guilt inside of me whenever I take time to relax? Why should I deprive myself of the simple pleasures in life in order to "get everything finished"? Is anything ever actually
finished? Is there ever a day when I have absolutely nothing to do? Those are the days that I long for, that everyone longs for, but never actually gets. A moment of clarity is soon interrupted by something
tick-tick-ticking in ones head - an alarm sounding off whenever someone's spent "too long" away from their responsibilities.
Many days I just want to sit in the sun on my back porch on a cool afternoon, dressed in something soft and comfortable - unlike my stiff kakis and jeans that confine me to the movements of those binding fabrics. I want to sit there and sip my tea, any kind of tea, and think of nothing but the smell of the trees and the rays of sunshine on my skin and the slight breeze across my face and the sweet warmth of my tea, sinking into it like that little lucky pebble. I would sit there for hours and breathe in and out, sipping my tea. I would sit there for hours and do nothing else.
But I can't.
Instead I have to hurriedly gulp it down trying to savor every sweet drop of tea that I can while it lasts because I have to study or I have to do homework or I have to do the laundry or I have to clean the dishes or I have to practice piano or I have to clean my room or I have to do call someone or I have to do something that I forgot to do yesterday! Have to have to have to! Do I have to? No. In reality, I don't have to do any of these things and the fact that I have trouble enjoying them simply because they are there to be done is only my fault. The fact that I cannot relax without feeling guilty about it is only my fault. The fact that I "don't have time to relax" is not only my fault, but it's not even true! I have lots of time to relax! In fact, I have the rest of my life to relax. I simply
choose to spend that time working, worrying, and not relaxing instead.
Now, I know that I am not the only one who has this problem. I am positive that every person in the United States could read this and relate to it in some way, shape, or form. What I am not positive about is whether someone from Rome or Lima or New Guinea or New Deli could say the same. My question is, why? Why are Americans so scheduled and orderly? Why are they so obsessed with saving time? Why do they punish themselves for relaxing when they have work to do? Why do they set handwork on such a high pedestal? Do they believe that handwork pays off in the end leading to ultimate happiness and time for relaxation? Because if happiness and relaxation is what we are aiming for right now, why not be happy and relaxed
right now? I suppose Americans, including myself, lead themselves into this facade of assurance that by rushing through our days trying to do everything perfectly and get everything done and suck the best out of everything we can, then eventually, there will come a day when we have time to do nothing and need nothing and want nothing. Well, I can say right now that that day will never come - that is, it will never come through the stressful technique we are using now.
This idea that we must feel guilty for not working can only lead us to exhaustion.
If we want to be happy and stress free, we should be happy and stress free.
Why not? We are here aren't we? We are breathing, aren't we? We are alive, aren't we?
Yes, we are! And so am I. So I stayed in bed and lost myself in daydreams, dizzying off every once in a while and slipping into that delicious cup of dreams. It was so quiet. And I didn't feel the least bit guilty... for the most part...
My standing question is: How can the United States come to value life's pleasures as much as work?