I think we’ve all been tricked. Somewhere along the way, we decided that effort was the ultimate measure of value. If you’re not doing something—working, achieving, improving yourself—then what are you even doing?
Nothing?
Exactly.
And that’s kind of the point.
The older I get, the more I realize that “doing nothing” isn’t a waste of time. It’s a protest. A rebellion against the idea that our worth is tied to how busy we are.
Think about it. When was the last time you let yourself just sit? Not to meditate, not to brainstorm, not to “practice mindfulness” because you read an article about how it boosts productivity. I mean sit. Stare out a window. Let your mind wander.
It’s weirdly hard, right?
That’s because we’ve been conditioned to believe that rest has to be earned. That every moment of our lives needs to be accounted for, optimized, or spent “adding value.” But here’s the thing: life isn’t a spreadsheet. You don’t get bonus points for efficiency.
Some of my best ideas have come from moments of pure, unadulterated laziness. Not the structured, self-improvement kind of laziness, but the real stuff. The kind where you’re lying on the couch, scrolling through memes, and suddenly, bam—epiphany.
I once spent an entire Sunday lying on the floor of my apartment because I was too lazy to clean. And in that haze of inertia, I started thinking about why we even bother with all the things we’re “supposed” to do. Why do we care so much about making beds, organizing closets, or answering emails within five minutes? Who decided that’s what matters?
Spoiler: it wasn’t us.
We inherited this obsession with effort from a world that equates busyness with virtue. But laziness? It’s a quiet revolt. It’s saying, “Actually, I’m good right here, thanks.”
And you know what? Laziness doesn’t make you less capable. If anything, it makes you more creative. When you’re too lazy to do things the hard way, you start looking for shortcuts. You simplify. You cut the fluff.
But that’s not even the best part. The real magic of laziness is that it gives you space. Space to breathe, to think, to just exist.
I used to feel guilty about being lazy. Like, if I wasn’t constantly doing something productive, I was falling behind. But then I realized: who am I racing? What’s the prize?
These days, I lean into it. Laziness isn’t just a break from the grind; it’s a chance to recalibrate. To ask, Is this really what I want to spend my time on?
And the answer is almost always no.
So now, I let myself ignore the small stuff. The dishes will get done eventually. The emails can wait. If it’s not urgent—or life-changing—it’s not getting my attention right now.
You might think this is just an excuse to slack off. But I’d argue it’s the opposite. Choosing laziness isn’t about avoiding responsibility; it’s about reclaiming your time. It’s about deciding what deserves your energy and letting everything else fall away.
Imagine what life would look like if you stopped doing all the things you think you’re “supposed” to do. What if you gave yourself permission to rest, to daydream, to let things be unfinished?
I’m not saying it’s easy. Being lazy in a world that glorifies hustle takes guts. But once you get past the guilt, you’ll find something even better: freedom.
If this resonates with you—or if you just want to laugh at how much I clearly enjoy being lazy—I made a video that dives into the art of doing less.
Leave a Reply