Minding My Busyness

Everybody is busy now.

Even when they are not. Being busy is now an image, a fad, because nobody wants to be the person doing nothing with their life. Nobody wants to be the one waiting for other people to finish being busy. Nobody want to be the idle one. And so we all wear busyness on our sleeve with pride because we feel that somehow it means that we are doing something with our lives.

Now, I know that actually there are two separate categories: The “busy” people and the busy people. The “busy” people are the people I just described in the paragraph above. They are the ones who fill their lives with so many activities, mostly unimportant, watery life shit, because they feel that running around having meetings and doing things means they are making it. And these guys are all about making it. Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t but they don’t have time for trivialities like your classmates child’s thanksgiving, or their neighbour’s birthday or posting a picture of your event to their millions of followers. You can even hear the pride in their voices as they brush off your invitation with their humble sounding “I’m too busy but I really would have loved to be there”.

Don’t lie sir, you’re not busy, you’re just self absorbed. And you are drowning in the bullshit.

The busy people are the people who are actually busy. These people are the hard workers. The deal makers. The super networkers. The people we read about in the newspapers and magazine. The people who use blackberries because they are the only devices that truly handle email. They have lots and lots of email. And when they are not running from one meeting to the other, they are holding their phones in their oh-so-practiced crablike grip, effectively replying emails at fifty words per minute. These guys are the ones who are always tired, and always complaining about being tired, but never changing. God forbid you suggest that they get some rest, the hustle must continue, and they are the ones that carry it along. These guys don’t have time, and truthfully, when you look at them you accept that they don’t. And you pity them.

I know I sound really pained but the funny thing is that I have been a member of both factions of busyness people. I started off being “busy” till I became actually busy, complaints and all, until I reached a point in my life when I had to stop and evaluate the life I was living. I think a major misconception that people make is mistaking having no time for making impact. They are not the same thing. There are people whose lives are not completely immersed in activities that are making impact in their communities and some, in the world. I noticed that all this running around and being busy left me unhappy because in the end, being busy made me unable to do the things I actually loved doing.

Being busy was a distraction from being happy.

One of the main reference points you can use to measure value of life in a person, I think, is the level of joy, happiness and peace being experienced by that person at that moment brought on by a mixture of all the things she is doing, or actively experiencing. A lot of the people I know who are busy, or even “busy” are tired, physically, and tired of being busy, but the busy life is all they know; they are in too deep.

When was the last time you just stopped and did something that you really wanted to do, you know, to make YOU happy.

When was the last time you stopped and noticed that all these things you are chasing are not as important as we think they are. No one on their death bed ever wished they were more busy. No one. They wish they kissed their children, and spouses, and took walks and went on more vacations to distant islands. Everybody wishes they did more of what they wanted to do, more of what made them happy.

But what do I know?

Its none of my busyness.