What is life really all about? Perhaps the more accurate way to phrase this as a question is "What is your life really all about and why don't you get on with it?" Does this mean procrastination is an existential issue?

I feel compelled to write about procrastination as an existential issue. I'm compelled to write this entry (and perhaps a few more) partly because I see chronic procrastination as a problem of existence and partly because I've noted this in my podcasts before, and I have had many requests to address this more directly. So, I'll begin this discussion today, but I'm sure I will come back to it. It's simply too important, too complicated and too misunderstood to try and "deal with this" in a single posting.

Note: If your only brush with procrastination is that occasionally you put off doing a task to the last minute, then this posting is not for you. My writing today will speak to chronic procrastinators who see that they have become their own worst enemy and who can't seem to act on any intention in their lives.

The thorny problem of chronic procrastination
As so many readers will recognize, the problem of procrastination, particularly chronic, pervasive procrastination, cannot be easily solved by better organization or breaking down tasks or short-term rewards. The problem of chronic procrastination is a problem of being itself. The problem of procrastination is defined by the inaction on intention and the accompanying anguish we feel as guilt and shame. The shame of intentions not fulfilled, judged and held accountable by our own values. These concepts are all well grounded in existentialist thought.

Existentialism
Any discussion of existentialism really has to begin with Jean-Paul Sartre's lament that the word is so loosely applied to so many things that it no longer means anything at all. So, we need to establish some shared meanings if we're going to make any sense of procrastination from this perspective.

I'll stick with Sartre and his terse, I think rather clear, way of defining the existential problem, "man's existence precedes his essence." We're in the world and exist before we know our purpose, before we understand that essence that provides meaning, that defines us. Our essence is what we make of ourselves. It's our choice, and this is the crux of it. Existentialism is a philosophy of choice.

Every moment brings choices. Yes, many are constrained by previous choices, but we are unable to escape choice. In fact, the one choice we can not make is the choice to deny our own freedom to make choices. As writer and philosopher Iris Murdoch writes, "We are condemned to be free." Choice and freedom are core concepts here, particularly as they apply to action and decision. It is, to use another key term in existentialist thought, the ultimate in total responsibility.

We are free to choose. We must. And, we must decide and act. Even indecision and inaction are really decision and action. Your indecision, your inaction, becomes your choice, your act, perhaps your whole life.

Just reading this far you may already be feeling it . . . anguish. Recognizing your own indecision, your own inaction on an intention, you're experiencing existential anguish. You're caught between the future (your ought or ideal self as a result of the action) and the present which is not this future. This is an empty feeling. Existentialist writers say that in anguish we feel like we no longer exist. Our lives fall into the empty space between the anticipation and action.

The space between anticipation and action is where we live with procrastination. In this space also lies our anguish of self defeat, of inaction, indecision, of not getting on with life itself. Sounds pretty ominous when stated this way doesn't it? Sounds sort of true too.

Here's my most mundane and personally earliest example of this realization of freedom, choice, inaction and the cost of waiting on the sidelines of life. It's a simple story of my first school dance. A dance at a time in my life when getting that close to a girl seemed like a very good idea.

We, boys and girls 12-13 years of age, crowded into the dimly lit gymnasium migrating quickly to opposite walls, a gulf of shiny hardwood floor between the sexes. Nervously, the boys joked amongst ourselves as the DJ began to play songs over the loud speakers. Dance music, but no one was dancing (well, some of the girls were by themselves on the other side of the gym). Song after song was played. I wanted to dance, but I lacked the courage to cross that floor, that huge expanse, to risk rejection.

Finally, a few of the teachers, males and females, escorted some of us to the floor. With this necessary catalyst to break down our inaction, the dance began. My vivid memory from that moment besides how wonderfully long "Hey Jude" is for dancing, was the question in my mind, "Why did we wait until the end of the dance to start dancing?"

It has been a metaphor for me in my adult years. Why wait to dance? Why let fear immobilize me? Why not act on intention, on desire?

I think part of the answer is in another existentialist concept, possibility, infinite possibility. I'll write about possibility and interest in the future. This is enough for one blog entry. There's lots to think about here already.

On the courage to be . . .
Of course, there are not simple solutions to a problem of procrastination that arises from a sense of meaninglessness. From the existentialist perspective as defined by the theologian, Paul Tillich, the issue is one of courage. This means "being in spite of," for example, courage in spite of anxiety, courage in spite of not feeling like it. In fact, Tillich believed that the courage we really need is the courage to persist and continue in the face of feelings of guilt of meaninglessness.

For chronic procrastination that stems from a deep sense of meaninglessness in life, "being in spite of" defines the existentialist's "therapy." In spite of feeling overwhelmed by the task at hand, in spite of not feeling like doing it, in spite of fearing failure, in spite of seeing little value in a necessary task, the answer is courage to persist and continue. This choice will define you, just as the choice not to persist, to needlessly delay has already defined you through procrastination.

Of course, the choice is yours. My advice, not that you asked for it, is dance sooner not later. In spite of that big, barren space between you and your goal, in spite of the fear of rejection or humiliation, dance.