Idleness is Not Laziness

Reading, Not Reading, Tuberculosis, and Time to Think

I just got back from a trip to Ireland. On this trip, I decided not to work, not to look at email (except in relation to our accommodation or reservations), and not to read (or listen) to any books.

Not reading was hard for me. I am an obsessive reader of non-fiction and I love audiobooks for the car. My first big accomplishment was completing the four-hour car ride to my departure city without turning on an audio book.

Once I reached the airport, I gazed into the crowd of bent heads looking at smart phones.

Photo by Vladimir Shevtsov on Unsplash

Part of the reason that I chose not to read (or listen to) books for ten days was that I finished two books in the two days prior to departure that I wanted to think about: Do Nothing by Celeste Headlee and Everything is Tuberculosis by John Green. I found a common thread in these two books. The idea that idleness leads to creativity.

Let me explain. Do Nothing is not at all about doing nothing. It’s a catchy title meant to capture readers like me. The subtitle says it all: How to Break Away from Overworking, Overdoing, and Underliving. This book had many good points, but the part that caught my attention was the emphasis on idleness and how important that is for creativity.

Rest is not a reward. It is a necessity. For creativity and productivity.

And how does this relate to tuberculosis? A section in Everything is Tuberculosis describes how historically, people thought tuberculosis affected only creative or sensitive people. Some famous sufferers include Vivienne Leigh, George Orwell, and Ringo Starr.

Green describes life in a sanitorium as “excruciatingly dull.” And perhaps with all this down time—people were discouraged from getting up or even reading—patients must have had to spend a lot of time in their heads. Thinking of poetry, prose, or make up stories to pass the time. In other words, it was the isolation and inactivity (i.e., idleness) that led to the creative bursts, and not that the disease struck only those who were sensitive and imaginative.

So, the common thread to both these books is boredom. Which leads to the opportunity to think deeply and creative bursts. And boredom is something we rarely allow ourselves anymore.

On the plane, I was seated in front of someone who coughed during much of the seven-hour flight. Without a book to distract me, I worried about tuberculosis.

Fortunately, I came away from that flight with nothing worse than a sore throat. Even better, I came away with two solid story ideas. I am ready to sit down and write with a new excitement and energy. I think it was this self-inflicted idleness that gave me the boost I needed.