You’re Not Lazy, Bored, or Unmotivated
I don’t know you, but I know this: You have internet access, and enough time to spend some of it reading.
It sounds obvious, but this tells me two more important things about you: One, you’re in the top half of humanity’s wealth distribution, because the other half of the world’s population isn’t even online yet. And two, since you’re here, you’re likely fighting a very modern human fight. You’ve probably already got the basics covered — food, a roof over your head. For you, the obstacles to a better, happier life aren’t all concrete. You’re trying to defeat more abstract enemies: laziness, boredom, self-doubt, procrastination.
Here’s the thing: All these concepts are one and the same. And there’s only one way to deal with them.
You’re not lazy. You’re not bored. You’re not unmotivated. What you are — what all of us are — is afraid. And the best advice for overcoming fear is the bland three-word sentence Nike turned into the most successful marketing slogan of all time (after slightly tweaking a serial killer’s last words): Just do it.
You’re not unmotivated
“I’m not motivated” is never a true statement. Not motivated to do what? Work? In that case, aren’t you motivated to avoid it? Every action human beings ever take is driven by some kind of incentive, whether it’s money, or happiness, or peace, or satisfying your conscience. Your motivation may not always be obvious, but it’s always there.
If you hate every second of the workday, you’re not unmotivated to change your job. But you haven’t, which means there’s something holding you back. For some reason, it feels like you can’t make the change. It’s too hard, requires too much effort, makes you too vulnerable to rejection. So you don’t even try. But that’s entirely different from not being motivated, and it’s only a sign that it’s time to dig into this feeling.
You’re not bored
I once struck up a chat on Tinder with a woman who was a scrum master and a physiologist. She was in business school, but, really, she wanted to study fashion and launch her own creative company. In short, she was a fascinating person.
When I asked her why she even used the app, she spoke the most common lie in the world: “I’m bored.”
How do I know it was a lie? Because no one is ever bored anymore. There’s no reason to be. Most of us don’t even choose to try. We’re 100% connected, 100% of the time.
We just pretend to be bored so we can keep filling our days with meaningless distractions, like small talk on Tinder, because we know what lies beneath the stillness: existential dread. Go through the door of boredom, and that’s what you’ll find.
The great scientist and mathematician Blaise Pascal once said: “All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” You’re not bored. You’re terrified of being alone with yourself in your own head.
You’re not lazy
Laziness is the scapegoat of everyone who’s trying to capitalize on your claim of “being bored.” “You’re not bored — you’re boring!” is what they’ll tell you. You need a hobby, or a calling, or a $250 fitness program with a personalized meal plan.
This, too, is nonsense. Laziness, like boredom, doesn’t exist. As psychology professor Devon Price has explained on Medium: “No one wants to feel incapable, apathetic, or ineffective. If you look at a person’s action (or inaction) and see only laziness, you are missing key details.” What looks like laziness or self-sabotage, he wrote, is almost always something else — a lack of confidence, an unmet need.
Once again, it’s not a lack of motivation, an inexplicable unwillingness to act, that obstructs your path to success and happiness. It’s the invisible boundaries in your head that you’re tripping over — sometimes without ever moving at all.
Medicating the symptoms
Laziness, boredom, procrastination — all of these are symptoms of the same disease.
My dad once told me this story: A colleague was driving to an appointment with a customer. As he was overtaking a truck, the truck moved into his lane. Seeing his car get crushed from the passenger side and compressing towards him, his animal instincts kicked in. Unleashing an ancient roar at the top of his lungs, he ripped out the gear lever of his automatic gearbox with one hand.
