The laziness of doing the work

It would be tempting to try to make these look pretty, but they’re arranged for function. (Image by Ahmad Ardity)

I could work a lot less than I do, theoretically.

Having worked hard to assemble an incredible team, there’s a lot of stuff I could hand off in addition to that which has already been delegated.

Moreover, there are things that I’m doing that I didn’t have to say yes to.

Where I’m going with this is not some humblebrag meditation on how I do my work because I want to and not because I have to. No, instead I want to call myself out: I do the amount of work I do because it makes me feel safe, and I don’t know what else I would be doing with my workday.

Sure, I occasionally play hooky and take advantage of owning my own business. However, I always have a to-do list that can fill eight or ten hours, and I often have stuff that I meant to get to that I didn’t. There’s a ready supply of tasks to occupy me and distract me from what is most important—or to prevent me from even figuring out what is important.

I’m not a workaholic. I have hobbies and personal projects I enjoy. I don’t work excessively anymore. But work tends to be a habit that I don’t question, and that doesn’t make me as effective as I could be. Like many leaders, I delegated up to a point, and then didn’t go past that point. In order to keep growing in this area, I have to consciously push against the status quo. Instead, I have realized that I’m settling for the laziness of doing the work without questioning it.

In truth, the harder work for me is to not work. To turn down opportunities to do stuff I’m good at to free up space for the new and untested. To hand off entire projects I have heretofore assumed I, and I alone, can do. To quit the things that I’m clinging to because they give me a sense of identity that I should have let go of years ago.

If I were to make these changes and find myself with free time, it would be easy to fill it. Chances are, however, that I’d fill it with another round of activities that aren’t giving me room to grow. I like to feel productive, which is not a problem in itself; the problem is that I’m able to attain this feeling so shallowly. Meanwhile, there are other things that I might like to create that I put off for “someday.” I’m delaying “someday” with my dogged follow-through on stuff that someone else could do or that I could simply jettison.

Sometimes, we hide behind goals that are too big; naturally, we might also hide behind goals that are too small. I’m always trying to stay grounded in appreciation of what I have, but that doesn’t have to preclude keeping an eye toward what else could be possible. There are certainly times to coast, just enjoying things as they are—it beats hanging on for dear life, which I have a lot of experience with. However, there are also times when I feel called toward something new and different. And that might mean I have to mess with something that’s working pretty well.

It feels strange to, as an unpleasant metaphor puts it, “push your cow off the cliff.” If it ain’t broke, why fix it? But as I get better at what I do, I can begin to see the thin line that separates contentment from complacency, and I understand that my desire is fundamentally for growth, not gain. It’s not about wanting to have more or even be more—it’s about continuing to follow the path I’m already on and being true to myself. My current work and habits might indeed be obstacles on that path. To move forward without questioning these choices is the easy way out, no matter how virtuous it may seem.

Hat tip to Mandi and team for the cow story!