Easier

Twenty-six seconds later, there was a quick double-knock on the front door, and it swung open. "Sorry, I forgot my cell phone," the Client half-shouted, as he reentered the house. The Coach was standing three feet away from the swinging door. He was holding the cell phone in his outstretched hand.

The Coach wore tan jeans and leather boots, a charcoal T-shirt, and a black watch with some heft to it. He was smiling, emphasizing the lines around his eyes. Grinning, actually. The Client took back his phone and began to apologize.

"I'm sorry," he said. What he said next spun out of him like a fork in a garbage disposal.

"I'm sorry I left like that; I just have a lot of obligations and a lot of things that I need to do - lots of stuff on my mind that's really pulling me out of our work and this conversation. Even though when I made the appointment it seemed like a good idea, I am not really in a place where I can focus on myself right now, because I just . well. . Uh, I can't seem to . yeah. What it really is is just something that, uh, half the time I don't even know myself, but I just feel like I can't really be here right now. I hope you understand and again I am really sorry. I also have to say that I don't understand where the hell you were going with that 'lazy' remark and I'm just not in a headspace where I can really unpack that, so I think it's best if I just leave."

The Coach chose his next words carefully. "There's no need to apologize. You have to do what's right for you. I support that. I'm here to support you. Whatever shape that takes is A-OK with me. I get it. Deadlines. Details. Obligations. I've been there myself, more than once. But before you go, why don't we just drink one glass of tea? One glass. Let's relax together, for a minute. And if you don't like the tea, or the conversation, then we can reschedule or whatever we need to do. No obligations. No pressure. It's just a conversation, right?

"And you never have to apologize," the Coach continued, hoping that those words landed. He was sharing more than just a courtesy. "Ever. Here, there are no mistakes. Only choices. And whatever they are, I respect your choices. You wanna sit back down?" he asked. "The tea is pretty good."

The men walked back out to the patio. They sat in silence.

The Client noticed a row of Italian cypress trees, standing like 40-foot-tall soldiers, waiting for battle. Perched in the blue sky, white cirrus clouds floated above the pointed green trees like a bunch of lazy hippies. Lucky bastards.

He turned to the Coach. "Nothing is easy for me," he said, apropos of nothing and yet somehow covering everything.

He continued, "Hard work is all I've known. If I'm lazy, how can I move forward in my life and in my career and . and . well, how is being lazy going to help?"

"People think of lazy as an activity, like eating potato chips and watching Netflix. That's 'lazy,'" the Coach said, uncrossing his legs. "And you're right - as an activity, 'lazy' is a horrible place if you want to get anything done. Other than binge-watching a show or growing your waistline, being lazy seems like a strategy for getting nothing done. We all know that being lazy is the opposite of being productive!"

Deep insight, the Client thought to himself.

"But as an attitude, lazy is actually brilliant. Consider your experience of being lazy on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Have you ever experienced a lazy Sunday afternoon?"

He had. The Client loved lazy Sunday afternoons. He began to share some memories of time apart from obligations, work worries, and schedules. He easily recalled times when he could do whatever he wanted; it was a rare treasure. Play with his kids, work on a project around the house that really mattered - the Client had several stories to share of time spent by himself, with his family, just exploring the outdoors sometimes. He confessed that he even enjoyed potato chips and the occasional Netflix binge, which made both men laugh.

"Me too! But wasn't that what made lazy Sunday afternoons so fantastic?" the Coach said, agreeing with him. "You got to do exactly what you wanted to do? You never wasted time doing something you didn't want, unless you wanted to waste time, and then the time-wasting thing just kind of turned from a label into life."

The Client chimed in, "And I lived it, and loved it, and all was well with the world." Were both men smiling?

"But you still had work on Monday, right?" the Coach interjected into the Sunday memory excursion. "Why didn't you spend your Sunday worrying about the week ahead?"

"Because that's not how a lazy Sunday works," the Client told him straightaway. "You stay in Sunday, you stay with the activity (or lack of it) and just enjoy the moment. Why would I think about the week ahead when I'm enjoying a lazy Sunday?"

"That's the kind of 'lazy' I'm talking about," the Coach said. "You don't waste time or energy on a lazy Sunday. Even if it looks like you're wasting time, you're actually not really wasting anything; you're just going through a kind of unconscious discovery of whatever it is you want to do next. Am I right?"

The Client took a healthy sip of his iced tea. He realized he hadn't had anything to drink since Waco. The Coach was telling the truth: this was good tea. He drained half the glass.

"Let's talk about being lazy in a new way - in a way that's super-kind to yourself," the Coach continued. "When you want to do something, what if you did it with a complete economy of action? Where you took only the actions that would maximize your results? Because, if you have a lazy attitude, you will always find the way to put in the least amount of effort to get the maximum impact."

The Client was interested in impact. He knew all about putting in effort. Hard work was the key to creating results, a fact that had been drilled into his head by well-intentioned teachers, family members, and that coach-manager person he had met with a few years back. Life was meant to be difficult. Even when it wasn't, it still was. That was the way he was wired. Or so he thought.

Until today.

"Lazy as an action plan means doing nothing. But lazy as an attitude is more like a lazy Sunday afternoon," the Coach explained. "On a lazy Sunday afternoon, you're not going to do anything that you don't want to do. And if you choose to do something, like working on your car, painting a room, hiking with your kids, or just making a spectacular sandwich - whatever it is that you like to do - you're not going to waste any extra energy. You're 'actively lazy.'" He leaned in for emphasis. "Actively lazy means that you are keenly invested in what you are doing and making sure that you're not wasting your time or your energy on anything that doesn't make you really happy. Unless, of course, you want to waste some time on something. Which is still part of the attitude - your state of mind - a lazy Sunday afternoon. There's nothing you can do that is a mistake, on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Because you are not on some artificial schedule, if you're really enjoying your day.

"Here look at this," the Coach said, handing the Client a small 3x5-inch card that was hidden underneath a black leather portfolio on the nearby coffee table. The Client read the printed words out loud, a quote from Bill Gates.

The Client sat back in his chair, as deep and as far as he could. The Coach took a sip of iced tea. He looked out at the trees to make sure they were still growing. Made sure no new buildings had been added to the distant skyline. Counted the clouds.

"So, that's it?" the Client asked. "Just be lazy, or actively lazy, and everything gets easier?"

The Coach looked out at the great outdoors. "Does it look like life has some kind of shortcut that you just haven't figured out yet?" He smiled as he spoke. There was kindness in his voice, even as the Client knew he was being teased. There was no malice or judgment. Both men knew there were no shortcuts. "I'll tell you a secret," the Coach said, leaning toward the Client and putting his hand up to emphasize the whisper. "Anything can be made easier. Anything. Maybe not easy, but easier.

"You've already discovered the choice that's easiest: walking away. Doing nothing. Embracing the status quo and giving it a big fat kiss," he said, laughing. "But easiest isn't necessarily effective, is it? I mean, if we bail out on the conversation, or the opportunity, or the relationship, how can we ever know where it will go? Not exploring is the easiest thing. But how will that help you - or anyone - to grow? To see things in a new way? I mean, discovery: that's what we're here to do, right? Regrets and missed opportunities aren't easier. Ever."

He leaned back in his chair. "Some things can never be made 'easy.' Fixing a rocket while it's flying through space, for example: not easy. Performing...