skimm the news, check my emails, and sigh in discontent because of my late arising. Even then, to be truthful, I'll often just lay there and wait a few minutes or rollover and chat with my husband for a half an hour. It's not that I don't have a hundred reasons to jump into the day, steam my almond milk, and Just Get On With It, it's that I've gone to bed at 2am again, and there's that tiredness burning behind my eyes.
The thing is, I want to be up at 6. But often I don't get to bed before midnight. The guilt this induces is sometimes near critical, and I almost can't believe I'm admitting it to the masses via internet, where it shall be written forever, that I do not (currently) have the routine of a highly functioning, important and productive person.
This whole nighttime-daytime-morning-vs-late-night-guilt-trip routine has got me to thinking about motivation. The time of day in which I fall to bed or arise is simply a metaphor for a bigger argument brewing within me about what is the right thing to do for maximum productivity. It's the ideal situation versus my realtime routine. I listen to many podcasts and have read the books and articles sharing secrets of the best amongst us, and therefore hold in my mind a high regard for the people of such stiff routine that 6am workouts and 7am smoothies, 10pm curfews and 11pm bedtimes are not just normal, but to be strictly adhered to and part of a greater strategy.
Call me human, and please don't call me lazy, but I'm not even sure if I want to change. My willpower is obviously strong enough to power through any goal in which I feel connected to, to achieve any task I fully believe in, to follow any program I set my heart on, but sometimes, I wonder if too much focus and drive might be a little machiavellian?
I've discovered my motivations are just as serious and as legitimate as those of the ones that make it into books, though mine do feel like they're working, they're just unconventional. It's not that I'm not motivated, or that disorganization is problematic, quite the contrary, it's that life, a good life, keeps getting in the way.
And isn't that perhaps reason enough to be motivated in the first place? To achieve a good life? I know this post seems to be walking a thin line between being the best of oneself and excusing laziness, but really, the truth is I'd hate to wake up far down the road and realize that the life I longed to live, the one waiting at the end of success and perfection was just there hanging around all the while I was busy trying to lasso it into a regimented schedule. In the end, I don't want them to say I was an early riser, I want them to know how many times I saw the sun come up and thought it was beautiful no matter if I hadn't gone to sleep that night or if I had.
Image via Drop Magazine.