PROCRASTINATION

I'm a great procrastinator. Sometimes, I put off things I actually feel I want to do. I want to have a clean house, but I procrastinate about actually cleaning. I want to take those bags of clothes to the Goodwill, but I put off taking them. In fact, I can let them sit under the dining table for weeks. There are many others tasks I can postpone doing  and for as long as it takes me to get fed up with what hasn't been done.
     When I was in graduate school, I put off writing papers until the last minute. That "until the last minute" is very much a part of procrastinating. But maybe I was ruminating all the time I wasn't writing so by the time I sat down I had a good idea of what I wanted to say. That's putting a kind spin on it, but that might be the right thing to do - procrastination is a prejorative and I have more than enough issues I blame myself for, blame which generally makes it harder for me to do anything about what I'm blaming myself for in the first place.
     There's another more subtle procrastination and it has to do with internal change. I want to overcome my habit of zoning out, of wanting only to lie on the bed, watch a video or just stare at the ceiling. I've come to call it a habit because in giving it a name, I bring it down to size and have a realistic chance of change. The only way to do that is to act in spite of my desire to zone out - but I push away, put off facing whatever it is at the heart of my resistance. Holding myself back is an action - not the one I think I want but a willed action nonetheless.
     I've spent a very long time trying to get to the reasons I put off even important things and hold myself back from change. Why do I have this resistance? But there's another habit, my repeatedly telling myself I have this resistance and blaming myself for not pushing past it. That's a story I tell myself - I am the one who can't get past my resistance - and it's a habit of mind so ingrained, so huge inside me, I don't register how often I tell myself that story. I think it's reality, my only reality, and I despair of ever changing it. 
     I spend a lot of time analyzing myself, taking my temperature, trying to put into words what I think is going on inside me. I believe in self-reflection. But trying to understand the reasons for my procrastination hasn't helped me change all that much. But I've come to think of my self-analysis as a distraction. Looking at my procrastination from every angle keeps me entertained while I'm procrastinating. By this time, though, I know there's no magic, no fairy dust that will descend and make it easy for me to hop, skip and jump to act. If I want to get those bags of clothes to the Goodwill, I have to shake hands with my resistance, my habit of procrastination and see that I'm bigger, my being is larger than those two old friends. Then there's hope that I will take my eyes off the ceiling, stand up, drag the bags to the car, put the key in the ignition, shift into drive, and go. There's no help for it. Shift into drive, and go!