An ode to laziness

The other day I wandered down Torstrasse heading west. I had no destination in mind, but chose to turn only when the street stopped me from going further. Three parks drew me in, each delightful in their own way, a respite from the busy street I was ambling down.
Berlin seems to be made up of a series of parks, buildings fitting in where there happens to be space. The amount of green space in the city makes it feel human in a way most American cities can’t capture. The acknowledgement that people live here and want to spend time relaxing. There are so many opportunities to stop and sit, no shame about looking like a vagrant.
It can be difficult to get out of the American mindset of productivity. The feeling that, if you aren’t producing something useful to the community, you are being a bad person. It’s no wonder the American entertainment business is so successful, we need distraction from the guilt that permeates our every minute. I’d thought that I had escaped a lot of that poisonous thought, but swimming in the muck leaves its trace.


1. Invaliden Park
Reminiscent of Cal Anderson Park back home, though much smaller, with a water feature dominating the center, inviting people to wander up the structure and get a new perspective of the space.

I wouldn’t say I’m afraid of heights, but I am afraid of falling from a great height, which is quite rational, I think, so walking over the grates, hearing the water rushing below, just able to see the distance of the fall, and noticing the grates being not quite flush, therefore perhaps, not quite stable, had me walking quite hesitantly.

Of course, just before I climbed the thing I saw two kids run up it, banging their full weights with each step, enjoying the sound of the metal. Then a mother and toddler went up, walking at a normal pace, not worried using the sides in case a section gave out.
Perhaps I’m more afraid of heights than I want to admit.

Considering the area, the view from the top was nothing special, but Berlin graffiti is usually amusing.

2. Hamburger Bahnhof - Museum für Gegenwart

The next park I came upon was attached to a museum, and the inspiration for the title of this post.
There is usually a good-sized public space outside museums and public buildings. Harkening back to my earlier observation that the people of Berlin, and likely German people in general, enjoy places to sit and take time to think. I was initially drawn in by the interesting statue at the entrance of the museum, like an abstract ancient Egyptian statue.

In the center of the courtyard was a simple garden feature, at first glance no different than other similar cultivated features the world over. Reading the explanation plaque revealed it actually to be an art piece, inspired by the works of Karl Marx’ son-in-law, Paul Lafargue, praising the benefits of being lazy. If any piece of art would speak to my soul, this one is it.

I didn't get a chance to go in the museum, but a little internet research revealed that it's actually located in an old train terminal, hence the 'bahnhof' in the name. The reuse of old structures is another feature that makes me love wandering around Berlin, which brings us to our third park.

3. Geschichtspark Moabit

A former prison, reading through the plaques in front of the park, we see a familiar story of development versus preservation.

Threatened by war, public works projects, and residential development, Berlin was able to compromise the competing interests, letting the city grow and maintaining history by providing a public benefit.

I have a lot of sympathy for preservationists, I think it a shame to destroy structures that can inform our view of the past and, perhaps, help us better understand how to shape our present. But progress happens.

To maintain the entire prison grounds to the detriment of a growing city and inhabitants that need a place to live feels short-sighted and cruel.

An afternoon enjoying nature in the urban sphere. The parks of Berlin draw me in more and more every day, making the though of leaving quite difficult.