Busy

We will do almost anything to remain occupied. The moment plans are cancelled, we scramble to fill the void—resisting the unbearable prospect of having no objective with our time. We’d rather numb ourselves with trivial tasks than experience any depth in our lives. We’d rather kill time than feel its passing.

We stay busy to avoid confronting thoughts of our inconsequential existence. Duties have simultaneously become our addiction and our prison, trapping us in a sort of self-imposed purgatory. Like dogs chasing our own tails, we reach hopelessly for meaning by adding more and more meaningless items to our to-do lists. We recognize this pattern, yet persist, because busyness offers an escape from what we refuse to face.

But what if our insignificance were not dreadful, rather liberating? What if we had no duties to fulfill? What if we could sit idle without feeling guilty? We surely won’t find answers buried in our planners, spreadsheets, or calendars. Perhaps meaning emerges when we step outside of busyness, watching the world carry on just fine without us. Sometimes, it takes more courage to observe than to participate.

In a modern world characterized by constant motion, exercise your ability, and your right, to stand still.