I stopped believing in “lazy.”

TL;DR:

• What looks like laziness is often fear, overwhelm, exhaustion, or another unmet need.
• Curiosity works better than shame: ask what’s underneath and what support would actually help.
• When you meet the real need, you’re more likely to return to the work with genuine enthusiasm instead of force.

Across more than 4,000 students during my tenure as a teacher, I met plenty of kids who were called lazy.

Kids who wouldn’t start the assignment. Kids who put their heads down. Kids who procrastinated until the last possible second, refused to participate, stared out the window, acted like they didn’t care, or seemed completely unmotivated.

But when I looked more closely, there was always something underneath.

Fear.

Overwhelm.

Embarrassment.

A belief that they weren’t capable.

A task so difficult they didn’t know where to begin.

A task so meaningless to them that they couldn’t connect to it.

Exhaustion.

Or a history of trying and failing enough times that they had stopped believing their effort would make any difference.

I studied human motivation closely for years, including the work of Daniel Pink, and it completely changed the way I taught and now provide overwhelm support.

When someone appears lazy or unmotivated, I don’t think the useful question is:

Why are you being so lazy?

Instead, I want to know:

What’s triggering this?

What conditioning is showing up here?

What has happened that makes giving up, shutting down, or becoming a lump on a log feel like the best available option right now?

These questions change everything. However, it’s a little harder to remember to ask myself these questions when it’s not a student or client but me being “lazy.”

“Screw it! I’ll just ignore it all today.”

I facilitate a weekly Artist’s Way Circle, and was the topic of our Week Nine conversation on Recovering a Sense of Compassion.

Julia Cameron challenges the idea that procrastination is simply laziness and asks us to look more carefully at the fear underneath it.

That immediately connects to everything I learned as a teacher and life coach.

But, knowing that laziness has underlying causes doesn’t mean, I don’t still feel like something is wrong with me when I’m doomscrolling instead of doing something meaningful.

I can still have a day when I look at everything I need to accomplish and think:

But I just can’t today.

Then comes the should-ing.

I should be working.

I should have more discipline.

I should stop wasting time.

I should get off my phone.

And if I stay there long enough, I can get downright ornery and spiteful with myself.

The thing is, something in me is resisting.

Maybe a part of me needs rest; mind body heart or spirit.

Maybe I’m scared, overwhelmed, or discouraged. Maybe I’ve set the bar somewhere so absurd that just looking at it makes me want to quit.

Julia Cameron writes:

“Setting impossible goals creates enormous fear.”

Whatever is happening, I know this much:

It needs attention and curiosity. It does not need me to attack it.

And it probably doesn’t need an hour of doomscrolling while I simultaneously berate myself for not working.

So during our Artist’s Way Circle, instead of judging the resistance, we investigated it.

Try this: investigate your “laziness”

Think of a recent time when you felt lazy, avoidant, unmotivated, or completely resistant to doing something you thought you should be doing.

Don’t fix it yet.

Just look at it.

1. What does “lazy” look like for you?

What are you actually doing when you call yourself lazy?

Are you lying on the couch?

Scrolling?

Watching television?

Cleaning something completely unrelated?

Avoiding opening the document?

Taking a nap?

Staring at your project and doing absolutely anything except touching it?

Be specific.

2. What triggered it?

What was happening right before you shut down?

Was the task enormous?

Were you afraid you couldn’t do it well?

Were you already exhausted?

Did someone criticize your work?

Were you overwhelmed by too many decisions?

Were you resentful that you had to do it at all?

Did you suddenly start questioning whether the work mattered?

3. What’s underneath it?

Now go one layer deeper.

What is actually showing up?

Fear?

Self-doubt?

Shame?

Grief?

Perfectionism?

Hopelessness?

Exhaustion?

Anger?

A need for support?

A genuine need to stop?

You don’t have to manufacture some profound psychological explanation.

Sometimes the answer really is:

I am tired.

That counts.

4. What would support look like?

This is where our conversation got interesting.

Support didn’t necessarily look like becoming more disciplined.

It looked like:

🐶 Cuddling with our puppies.

✨ Fully believing in ourselves.

🌿 Allowing instead of forcing.

🔎 Getting curious and listening longer.

💛 Recognizing that if we obviously don’t feel like doing the thing, it’s ok to go in a different direction.

😴 Giving ourselves permission to rest intentionally.

There is a difference between saying:

I’m not doing this right now, so I’m going to intentionally rest.

and spending hours doomscrolling, feeling worse afterward, and then adding lazy to the list of things we call ourselves.

If I’m going to step away from the work, I want to actually step away.

Rest.

Walk.

Read.

Cuddle the dog.

Pray.

Do something that restores something in me instead of leaving me more depleted than when I started.

And sometimes support means handing the whole project over for a minute.

Julia Cameron writes:

“Being an artist requires enthusiasm more than discipline.”

That idea changes the equation for me.

Instead of trying to discipline myself into submission, I can ask what might help me reconnect with enthusiasm.

Sometimes that means praying ⎯ loosening my grip on the timeline and handing the project over to God. I might just need to allow the work to sit for a while without deciding that the pause means I’ve failed.

When I stop trying to control everything and instead get curious about what the “laziness” is asking for, I can make room for what I actually need and return to the work with real enthusiasm instead of force.

The moral of the story: don’t shame yourself for the shutdown. Get curious about what it’s trying to tell you.

Want to join the Artist’s Way Circle? Find out more in the Facebook group!

🌿