I had this memory today when watching an episode of Garfield, of sitting at our kitchen table when I was about six, and my dad teaching me how to spell the word ‘procrastination’. There will have been reasons for his choice of word – probably I had provoked it – but I can’t remember them now.
It is interesting that I have become somebody, as I said in a previous blog, who cannot put anything off, once the thought gets into my head. If I do manage to pause, and push the notion back, I’m miserable and bothered all day. Sadly, my inability to procrastinate has made me unable to be at peace.
So actually, procrastination can also demonstrate a certain kind of strength and contentment. In moderation though. Can you imagine if everyone just put everything off? You’ve got to get up and give something too.
I would love to learn to ‘just be’. That is possibly one of the only up-sides of suffering from fatigue; it pushes me to lie down on my bed in the middle of the day, to watch a DVD with my kids on a week-day afternoon, or to sit after dinner and let my husband clear the table. It is in those moments that I’m forced to truly see the people around me, and to accept their love for me. That is an unexpected, very precious gift.