Passion and Procrastination

We’re making our end of summer list. That’s the list that we should have made at the first of the summer but we always seem to make the last week of summer of all the things we want to do while we have the time and the weather is still nice. So far it’s going to take a lot of cash, several nights without sleep and a private jet to get everything done in the next week. I doubt we’re going to make it and I’m surprised at how many things we haven’t done since it’s been a fun summer so far.


Faced with Everest sized to-do lists, I wonder why I’m such a procrastinator and how my children are going to fare in the world at large with such a dysfunctional example of how to get things done timely. I blame my profession mostly. As an accountant I’m always facing hard deadlines and I somehow manage to meet them—my left brain running at optimum efficiency. But in my off hours I like to think of myself as a free spirit, capable of creating works of art, playing, daydreaming, and maybe even summoning spirits like Sandra Bullock in Practical Magic (I also want to live in her house on an island, and grow my own herbs.) Apparently I’m schizophrenic. I like to think the people I associate with at work, while wearing my conservative suit and sensible shoes, wouldn’t recognize my weekend persona except for the hard-to-miss head of ridiculously curly hair.

I’m not sure why it’s so important to me to be creative, especially since I’m incredible adept at using my left brain—you’d think that would be enough for me. But creative people are fun and unpredictable, interesting and entertaining. Given that description, who wouldn’t want to be right-brained? Creative types are considered frauds if they operate efficiently in the world at large and rational, controlled, highly professional people are boring and cranky—as my teenage son likes to point out whenever I get mad at him. Boring, but we never out of milk because we were too busy playing to make it to the grocery store and we don’t have to deal with overdraft fees since we actually pay our bills before we buy a great pair of new shoes. Obviously my left-brain wins most of the time, but that doesn’t keep me from trying creative pursuits and fighting against being boring—at least to my kids. Perhaps procrastination isn’t the legacy I’m leaving to my children, maybe it’s passion. Maybe they see me trying to do all these different things, always at the cost of something else, and they see that it’s important to do the things you love. And forgetting to pack a lunch, or wash my car is just a byproduct of trying to live with passion. Because life is short and I’d love try it all, see it all and especially taste it all. But I can’t—no one can. There’s just not enough time.