#Busy — Not My Thing
So what of it?
Imagine time as a landscape: long hills of open afternoons, unfenced horizons of hours, the vast immaculate freedom of time which, until so very recently, all of humanity knew. But foreshorten the horizons, fence the days, restrict the hours, erect deadline, add punctuality, alarm clocks and speed — enclose the commons of time, in other word — and people will feel pressured, even if they know how to live in a clock driven world.
~Jay Griffiths, A Country Called Childhood
Because I choose not to be busy, I have time for things — things like walking, thinking, writing and helping.
I think about breathing. Fast or slow? Deep or shallow? What is the quality of my breath? Does the quality of my breath match the quality of my life?
If your eyes are rolling and you think I’m a nut cake, I understand. I was there once — when I thought busy and wealth signified worth.
Somewhere along the trail of my life, I began to leave busy behind, focusing instead on importance and meaning.
Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there someday. ~A.A. Milne, Winnie-The-Pooh
Time has bought me long walks in nature, a full go at motherhood, an understanding of myself beyond who society thinks I should be, peace of mind, and a mind that is flexible, not fixed on any one right or wrong way.
Not being busy has come with a trade off. I’m an outlier — peculiar. I imagine everyone I meet wonders; Why is she so idle?
The funny thing is, in truth, everyone is so busy thinking about themselves — they’ve got little time to waste on me.
So like the river pictured above, my exterior might appear calm and unhurried — not busy, not busy at all.
What I’d like to believe though is this —
underneath the calm surface, the real important meaningful work is happening. I must believe that whatever I am cultivating in my non-busy life, will flow forth as destined — because I’ve not lost it in a sea of tumult.