yep. awkward dredlocks.
Decades ago I learned a lesson which has served me well ever since.
It was circa 1994 and I’d recently opened my boutique personal training studio.
I was excited.
I was terrified.
I was eager to train seven days a week, all hours of the day
I had a loan to repay and rent to pay.
I was (young and energetic and) willing to do whatever it took to make my business a success.
One afternoon I had a consultation with the superintendent of our school district.
“I’m very busy, ” she informed me.
“I don’t doubt it,” I responded.
“I get up at 5:00a every single morning.” She instructed me. “I have really busy days.“
“I can imagine,” I told her. “I can meet you here at 5:00 am if you’d like!“
There was a long silence on her end after which she mumbled.
“Um. No. Let’s do 730am.”
Each session—without fail—she’d dash in late having just woken up.
That interaction stuck with me as it was my first experience with the glorification of busy.
With the badge of honor it was to purport to sleep little, always be harried and have no time to MONOtask.
Close to twenty years later (!) I’ve resisted the glorification of the busy.
I rise at 4am each day—but less than a badge of honor it’s a way for me to have it all (or, more aptly put, want the all that I have.).
Sure, when asked I share I’m up like a puppy (meaning I wake sans-alarm), but never in a fashion which intimates my up at four is better than another mother’s waking at seven.
I *also* freely over-share I don’t love waking so early to work—-it’s just what I do.
I hope not forever.
Lately the BUSY has crept in my life in a fashion I don’t enjoy.
Here’s where I strive to be PRESENT.
The BUSY which waits for me after I’m finished.
- The laundry. The grocery.
- The writing. The tweeting.
- The volunteering. The mother/daughter book clubbing.
The stuff which comes together to weave the BUSYfabric of my life.
shhh! it’s the SECRET-BUSY!
The busy of all of our lives.
The BUSY which, even if we make efforts not to glorify, invariably seems to become a source of comparison among us.
Is that why my new client felt compelled to lie about what time she woke up? I’ve wondered.
“Did she assume I woke early (I didn’t back then. Not as early as now.) and think I’d judge her? Or was it as simple as the fact we, even then, glorify those who led busy, overwhelmed lives?“
Recently at a party I overheard a woman asked what she did in her free time.
“What free time? Who has any?” was her tossed off response.
I knew what she meant—work & children ate up all her extra moments—-yet the comment made me profoundly sad.
The underlying message returned to the glorification of the busy.
Lack of hobbies was a badge of honor for which she anticipated—given her delivery—murmurs of admiration.
I’ve begun to reexamine my own BUSY.
To tease it apart and *challenge myself* how much of it is my own creation and how much is the necessary BUSY of life.
I’ve no answers yet, so for now I’m striving to glorify the DE-busification of life.
I’m applauding those whose lives are by choice slow as I work to carve my own slower path.
A week or so ago the Tornado & I took a trip to New York City. I had meetings and when I wasn’t in those we played.
As a result, I was excited to learn there was wifi on our 6-hour flight home.
I was behind in work & the pressure of the BUSY felt as though it could be lessened by a marathon, in-flight work session.
Long story short there was no wifi.
I was forced to relinquish the busy and spent most of the six hours doing this:
I exited the plane (and headed back into the *Belly of the BUSY*) feeling more relaxed than I had in ages.
And re-committed to striving to stop the glorification of the BUSY.
- Do you find the constant glorification of BUSY exhausting?
- As our lives seem to only get more hectic—do you think the notion of BUSY as BADGE OF HONOR will ever change?