Busy busy busy
The pace of life quickens around us, relentlessly. A friend was reminiscing about her childhood in the San Francisco Bay Area, and described how her mom would pack dinner into the car along with all the kids, and they'd drive to a park across town and have dinner at a picnic bench overlooking the lake. Her dad would start the barbeque coals, her mom would unpack the potato salad and celery sticks, the kids would all run around playing tag or kickball, and they'd have a great time together.
The amazing thing about her story was that her family used to do this once or twice every week, during the week, and both of the parents worked full time. She couldn't reconcile that reality to her current reality where she works late, every day, runs errands on the way home, catches up on emails and bills when she gets home, does the laundry while she scarfs down some take out, and usually doesn't finish everything that needs doing before it's way past time to go to bed.
How did her parents manage that? Why is the possibility of dinner in the park with the family an impossibility in her current life?
The pace of life quickens around us, relentlessly. Someone mentioned just last week that she realized that it was in her nature to keep herself crazy busy no matter what she's doing, so she might as well keep herself busy doing something meaningful. She could choose to keep herself crazy busy at work, so the company would prosper from her busy-ness, or she could choose to keep herself crazy busy at home, so her family would benefit, or she could choose to keep herself crazy busy doing something that filled her heart with joy, so that her soul would benefit. Her job was to find the balance between those three arenas, to keep them all alive and vital.
I traveled with a friend to visit his family in St. Louis, quite a few years ago now. He had arranged for his brother to pick us up at the airport, and when we met him in the parking lot, he had a friend with him. He had stopped by on his way to the airport and the friend said he'd come along, too. We decided to go to a small local pub for lunch, and gradually more and more friends arrived, and we spent the entire afternoon at this pub, about 40 or 50 of us, laughing and telling stories.
They had all heard, one after the other, that my friend was in town, and they had all walked away from whatever they had been doing and wandered over to say hi. Now, my friend visited St. Louis several times a year, so his arrival wasn't a rare event. This group of people merely had been friends since kindergarten, and they liked getting together.
Why hadn't their pace of life quickened to the point that we would have had to take a taxi home from the airport and maybe found time to have dinner with another couple while we were in town? How was it that 40 people were able to walk away from their Saturday plans, at a moment's notice, and spend the afternoon talking and laughing with friends?
I've pondered these questions for years, and I have no ready answer, except that we do choose how to fill our time. We choose what we're going to be busy with. We choose where we're going to be busy. We can be busy anywhere.
As the pace of life quickens around you, where, and how, would you like to be busy? That simple question will shape your tomorrow.
The amazing thing about her story was that her family used to do this once or twice every week, during the week, and both of the parents worked full time. She couldn't reconcile that reality to her current reality where she works late, every day, runs errands on the way home, catches up on emails and bills when she gets home, does the laundry while she scarfs down some take out, and usually doesn't finish everything that needs doing before it's way past time to go to bed.
How did her parents manage that? Why is the possibility of dinner in the park with the family an impossibility in her current life?
The pace of life quickens around us, relentlessly. Someone mentioned just last week that she realized that it was in her nature to keep herself crazy busy no matter what she's doing, so she might as well keep herself busy doing something meaningful. She could choose to keep herself crazy busy at work, so the company would prosper from her busy-ness, or she could choose to keep herself crazy busy at home, so her family would benefit, or she could choose to keep herself crazy busy doing something that filled her heart with joy, so that her soul would benefit. Her job was to find the balance between those three arenas, to keep them all alive and vital.
I traveled with a friend to visit his family in St. Louis, quite a few years ago now. He had arranged for his brother to pick us up at the airport, and when we met him in the parking lot, he had a friend with him. He had stopped by on his way to the airport and the friend said he'd come along, too. We decided to go to a small local pub for lunch, and gradually more and more friends arrived, and we spent the entire afternoon at this pub, about 40 or 50 of us, laughing and telling stories.
They had all heard, one after the other, that my friend was in town, and they had all walked away from whatever they had been doing and wandered over to say hi. Now, my friend visited St. Louis several times a year, so his arrival wasn't a rare event. This group of people merely had been friends since kindergarten, and they liked getting together.
Why hadn't their pace of life quickened to the point that we would have had to take a taxi home from the airport and maybe found time to have dinner with another couple while we were in town? How was it that 40 people were able to walk away from their Saturday plans, at a moment's notice, and spend the afternoon talking and laughing with friends?
I've pondered these questions for years, and I have no ready answer, except that we do choose how to fill our time. We choose what we're going to be busy with. We choose where we're going to be busy. We can be busy anywhere.
As the pace of life quickens around you, where, and how, would you like to be busy? That simple question will shape your tomorrow.