When Did We Get So Good At Being Busy?

When Did We Get So Good at Being Busy?

When did doing nothing start to feel like something we should feel guilty about?

I've been thinking about this recently.

We seem to have become very good at filling every available space in our lives.

If we're not working, we're answering messages. If we're sitting down, we're scrolling through our phones. If we have a free weekend, we start thinking about all the jobs we could get done.

Even when we're supposedly relaxing, part of our mind can still be working through the list of things we haven't done yet.

And somewhere along the way, being busy seems to have become something we're strangely proud of.

Ask somebody how they've been and you'll often hear:

"Busy."

Almost as though that's the answer we're supposed to give.

When did rest become something we had to earn?

I wonder when we started feeling that we need to justify doing nothing.

Think about a sunny afternoon.

You could sit in the garden with a cup of coffee for half an hour and simply enjoy it.

But then you notice the grass needs cutting.

There's something in the shed you've been meaning to sort out.

You remember an email you haven't replied to.

There's washing that could go on.

Before long, the coffee is sitting somewhere getting cold and you're halfway through another job.

And strangely, that can feel better.

Because you've been productive.

We've achieved something.

We've ticked something off the list.

Sitting in the sunshine doesn't give us anything to tick off.

Perhaps that's part of the problem.

There's always something else

The trouble with waiting until everything is finished before allowing ourselves to stop is that everything is never finished.

There will always be another email.

Another job around the house.

Another load of washing.

Another appointment to organise.

Another message to answer.

Another thing we've been meaning to get around to.

Life has an extraordinary ability to keep producing things for us to do.

And modern life has made it even easier.

We carry around a phone in our pocket that means almost everybody we've ever met can contact us at any time of the day.

We can check work emails from the sofa.

Order something while watching television.

Read the news while eating breakfast.

Reply to somebody while walking the dog.

Even the moments that once contained absolutely nothing can now be filled.

Waiting for the kettle to boil?

Check your phone.

Standing in a queue?

Check your phone.

Five minutes before somebody arrives?

Check your phone.

We don't seem to be very comfortable with empty spaces anymore.

Maybe we've forgotten how to be bored

I remember boredom being a much bigger part of life.

There were times when there genuinely wasn't anything to do.

You waited.

You stared out of a window.

You sat somewhere.

Your mind wandered.

And eventually you found something to occupy yourself.

I'm not suggesting life was somehow perfect before smartphones or that we should all throw our televisions away and go and live in a forest.

I quite like my phone.

But I do wonder what we've lost by removing almost every opportunity to be bored.

Because when nothing is demanding our attention, something interesting can happen.

We start noticing things.

Our thoughts wander.

We remember something.

We think about somebody.

We notice how we're actually feeling.

Sometimes an idea appears from nowhere.

And sometimes absolutely nothing happens.

Maybe that's okay too.

We don't always have to be improving ourselves

There's another kind of busyness I've noticed.

Even relaxation can become a project.

We don't just go for a walk anymore. We count the steps.

We don't just sleep. We measure the quality of it.

We track calories, exercise, productivity, screen time and how many books we've read.

Even mindfulness can become another thing we're supposed to be good at.

There always seems to be a better version of ourselves somewhere in the future that we're supposed to be working towards.

Healthier.

Fitter.

More organised.

More successful.

More productive.

And there's nothing wrong with wanting to grow.

But I wonder whether constantly trying to become a better version of ourselves can occasionally stop us appreciating the person who's already here.

Perhaps stopping isn't wasting time

I'm certainly not suggesting we abandon our responsibilities.

Most of us have jobs to do and people who rely on us.

Life needs doing.

But perhaps rest isn't something we should only allow ourselves once everything else has been completed.

Because everything else will never be completed.

Maybe sometimes it's okay to leave something until tomorrow.

Sit down.

Have the coffee while it's still hot.

Look out of the window.

Listen to a whole song without doing something else at the same time.

Talk to somebody without checking the time.

Go for a walk without counting the steps.

Do absolutely nothing useful for half an hour.

The world will probably keep turning.

The washing will still be there.

The email can wait.

And that job you've been meaning to do?

It will almost certainly still be waiting for you tomorrow.

It doesn't mean you're wasting your time.

It might mean you're actually spending some of it.

Kieran Boddy MBACP

Integrative Counsellor – Trust Counselling