A Slacker is Born

I think I actually remember the first time I consciously indulged in the fine art of slacking. I was seven years old, in my second grade class-room. It was quiet time, and we were supposed to be doing work in our work-books. All the other kids were studiously hunched over their desks with pencils scribbling furiously. Well, this just didn’t look fun at all to me. I clearly remember leaning back in my chair, looking at my work-book, thinking “nope”. I just sat there looking around, listening to the silence and feeling completely removed from whatever motivation was driving my peers. My teacher, Mrs. Weinstein didn’t seem too concerned, so I was also learning the pros of being under the radar.

Now, it might sound as if I was just being a brat, and shrugging off work, but it wasn’t about that. I wasn’t looking for trouble, passing notes or shooting spit-balls. I was just enjoying being alone in my own thoughts. And, the thing I remember more than anything about the moment was just feeling at peace. Peace in doing my own thing (which was nothing). Peace, listening to the silence. Peace, realizing the freedom in exercising free will. Peace in being the outsider.

So, the dreamer, outsider, slacker was born in that moment. There are times where these traits are obviously detrimental, but for the most part I’m glad to bear them. Contrarily, I see others in this world who spend their whole lives reacting needlessly to the pressures of the outside world. They are so stressed, and I wonder if they ever take the time to just slow down, and visit with themselves. Collect their thoughts, and breathe for a minute while everyone else is scribbling furiously. Hey, it works for me.

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