It’s no secret that I despise hallmark holidays. I have a contentious relationship with everything from capitalism to organized sports and especially organized religion. In short – I’m no fun at parties. I’ve been accused more than once of being a buzzkill, a radical, a communist, a libertarian, a curmudgeon, an extremist, a cynic…you get the idea.
I’ll admit, I’m hard on others and even harder on myself. I criticize vanity, opulence and above all – laziness. A common critique from friends and family is, “Tyson, life is short.” I agree, and my interpretation of this adage is that we must be doing SOMETHING in the short time we have on this planet to make our lives worth it.
My son was born a week after a hurricane destroyed everything my wife and I had spent the previous two years building in preparation for his arrival and I’m still processing what was lost. In the days after his birth, I chose to spend my paternity leave from my work rebuilding our farm. In the cover photo, my son is only days old and instead of cherishing every moment with him in his first days of his existence I was rebuilding the infrastructure of the farm.
From a strictly utilitarian standpoint I knew I was making the right call. It made more sense to use what little time I had putting our home, farm and life back together. I railed against all the naysayers suggesting I spend it with my son since, after all, I was doing all of this for him and my family. To hell with anyone who couldn’t see that.
I’m not saying I was wrong but as I mused on the balance between life and death on the farm a few weeks ago I realized there hasn’t been much balance in my work/life parity either. Whether it’s my 9-5 or farm work the outcome is I work 12 hours a day, everyday. This is not, I’m told, sustainable.
A decade ago I lost the first love of my life for, among other reasons, being lazy. A decade later I’ve pushed my second chance at love and happiness to the brink for the extreme antithesis of laziness. I realize now that it’ll take quite some time to figure out how to bridge the gap between sloth and strife but finally, I’m now prepared to try. Oh, and happy Father’s Day…I guess.
