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I’m in the middle of a massive career change. After 20 years in the business, I’m getting out.

For the past month I have been embracing my new calling: enlightened loafer.

In elementary school, first it was share, share, share. After that, I had to learn and then relearn long division. Then middle school hit, and I was introduced to the miseries of the teenage popularity game. Finally, hard work in high school opened the door to UCLA.

Four years, 1,200 hours of classes, at least 20 all-nighters and 70 midterms later, I am now a college graduate with, as my diploma states, “all the rights and privileges thereto pertaining.”

Everyone has been asking, “How does it feel?” And though I want to feel sorry for myself now that I’m in the real world and the carefree days of my student years are behind me, I feel excellent. My mind is more peaceful than ever before.

The reason? Leisure time.

The means? I haven’t been working.

But I have a job; I’ll be moving to Japan next week to teach at a high school for a year. With the security of employment, I decided to do what I had not done since childhood: nothing. The Italians have a popular saying: “La dolce de far niente,” or, “The sweetness of doing nothing.”

But this does not mean sloth or laziness. It has been a welcome departure from the ethos of busyness. Many UCLA students have been infected by the constant need to do, do, do; I was one of them.

Maybe it’s a result of the hard work required to enter UCLA or it has something to do with living in Los Angeles. Either way, this has become so second-nature for us that we put pressure on ourselves to be more busy than should be allowed.

My first Monday as an unemployed college graduate, I set out to accomplish a number of errands: dropping off a camera and lenses, picking up an iPod, and having a photo printed for someone, all in far-flung corners of Los Angeles. Bad traffic, bad planning and bad luck conspired against me. One hectic day later, I had managed to accomplish only one thing.

I tried to multi-task my way through things that should have taken days because I was still operating with an ethos of busyness that shuns even well-deserved inactivity. Why couldn’t I just reward myself with one day off?

I resolved to enjoy my summer after that day. I cherish my morning coffee and Los Angeles Times sessions. I greet my working friends at night and cook dinner with them. I read books written in the first person and talk politics with my grandmother.

I can feel my batteries recharging, and each day I feel increasingly ready for Round Two: teaching.

I do not write this as an advocate of laziness. Do not shy away from hard work or daunting challenges, but don’t forget to uncork the champagne once the great task is done. You’ve got to look after your own sanity if you want to continue making an impact.

The suffering and stress I endured at UCLA have borne fruit. I have a head full of knowledge and a free plane ticket to Japan. Four years of waking up at 11 a.m. like during this July wouldn’t have gotten me here. But now that I have time to put my feet up, I’m taking it.

I urge everyone, no matter how busy you may be, to do the same.

You’ve probably earned it.

If you’re too important to read Taylor’s column, e-mail him at

jtaylor@ucla.edu. Send general comments to viewpoint@media.ucla.edu.