Mastering the Fine Art of Procrastination

I've been meaning to write this for a while, but so many other things seem to get in the way. Why am I doing it now? Have I finally found that block of time with nothing else demanding my attention? Hardly. I got in late this evening, didn't get dinner started until nearly 8:30, and I have a class to finish preparing. Ironically, the class is about procrastination. I am writing this tonight because [my excuse is] it will give me a chance to think out loud.

Procrastination is not always a bad thing. If things at the "top" of our priority list never get done, there is a message there. When the things lower on the list always get done before the big things, maybe that list topper is not really our priority, but something we feel obligated to. In that case, it's a good opportunity to examine our goals and determine if the list is really a good reflection of who we are or who we want to be.

More often, procrastination is a way to avoid some necessary but anxiety producing task. For example, I need to balance my checkbook every month. I'm a control freak about that kind of thing. But accounting frustrates me; little discrepancies drive me absolutely over the edge. So on the night that I have set aside for this relatively simple task, I can usually find about a hundred other things to do. These substitute activities are almost always necessities. Laundry seems to top the list. Laundry is a mindless task, but heaven knows it doesn't do itself. So, two or three loads of laundry later, I have clean towels and underwear, I can tell myself I have been productive and accomplished something, but my checkbook remains undone.

What's wrong with that? I mean really, you have to do laundry, so it's something to cross off the never-ending to do list. The problem occurs when the checkbook remains on the edges of my consciousness. Not doing it becomes even more anxiety provoking than doing it. Somehow, past feelings of relief at finally finishing the bookkeeping are insufficient to motivate me until I am so far behind that I can't stand it any longer.

Sometimes, though, procrastination can finally become the motivator. When putting a thing off for long enough produces sufficient anxiety, even the most determined procrastinator is finally called to action. Maybe it's the thrill of making it just before a deadline, or perhaps it's the knowledge that if we don't finally move on this one thing we will be crippled in many other ways. Maybe it's just that we can't find any more excuses.

Many of my students, wonderful as they are, suffer from procrastination. It sometimes disturbs me to think that it is my responsibility to teach them how to manage this. ("Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach.") Understanding what motivates each of us to put things off until the last possible moment is the key to mastering the fine art of procrastination. Each of us is wired a little differently. Some like the challenge of the deadline, others are paralyzed by the fear of failure, and some are overwhelmed by the sheer possibilities of the project and unable to find a starting point.

Perhaps the best way to manage our own style of procrastination is to understand the ways we deceive ourselves. Is it possible to look honestly at what keeps us from the things we have planned? I think so, but it takes a little effort.

If I don't do the laundry when I have something else planned, it's likely that some other family member will decide they'd like a clean towel and do a load of wash themselves. If we can stop pretending that the more mundane items on that list are equally important to those we have defined as top priorities, maybe we will find reasons to address the truly important, get them done, and find a few rewards along the way. If we can learn to master procrastination through understanding our internal motivations, perhaps we can make some strides toward a simpler, more rewarding life.

What do you put off?