I heard a man today on NPR expounding on the virtues of procrastination. His name is Frank Partnoy and he has just published a book titled Wait: The Art and Science of Delay. He confessed to being proud of his procrastination, and proclaimed it a virtue in our allegedly ever faster, less contemplative society.
Mr. Partnoy does not know what he is talking about. I doubt if this man, who just published his fourth book, has ever experienced true procrastination in his life. Procrastination is not contemplative, it is not calm, it is not reasoned. Procrastination in my life is a disease born of fear and doubt. It is a habit of the mind to turn away from whatever is hard or challenging until all creativity is drowned out in the constant struggle not even to consider the intimidating task before me. Procrastination unchecked becomes paralysis.
The Latin roots of the word are pro cras, or 'for tomorrow'. For those of us trapped in the self-imposed smothering of true procrastination 'tomorrow' is a comforting fiction, a shining day promising at last for the potential to become actual, for the fear to dissipate, and for our minds to focus on the task at hand. 'Tomorrow', of course, never arrives, only a long series of todays where fear and doubt continue to thrive.
This, my first post on my first blog and the longest piece of writing i have produced since my last failure at college, is a little victory in the war on procrastination i will be fighting for the rest of my life. Yesterday I told myself that today was the day that I start a blog. Today, miraculously, I did.
