Lazy
by Michael Feeley
There is a lazy that is theft. Capable hands and mind that choose to steal away the day from working. And there is a lazy that is grace. A gift the day gives you, and you say yes.
Here is the second kind as I feel it with all my being.
3:30 in the garden. The heat has stopped the clock. No breeze moves. No bird calls. No leaf dares to shift. The afternoon holds its breath, and so do I, and then I don’t… I let it go, slow, under the umbrella, a cool drink sweating in my hand and a peach.
This is what Morgana King sings about in the song, “It’s a Lazy Afternoon.” She wasn’t confessing to idleness. She was confessing to joy and inviting someone to join her.
Peace, I think, is not the absence of things happening. It’s the absence of needing them not to happen. Nothing disturbs because I have stopped asking anything of the moment. The stillness isn’t empty — it’s full, of heat, of quiet, of the particular sound that silence makes when you finally notice it.
I did nothing most of today. I moved slowly toward nothing in particular. And I was so happy I did.
No regrets. Not one.
Lazy is not a failure of ambition. Sometimes it’s the truest success when the day asked for ease, peace, calm, stillness, renewal, and I finally had the wisdom to give in to it.
L A Z Y… Say it slow. It sounds like relief.
Thanks – Michael (he, him)
Pleased share this Daily.
This is also important – Peace at Work.
#2364
