The Disease of Being Busy
I saw a dear friend a few days ago. I stopped by to ask her how she was doing, how her family was. She looked up, voice lowered, and just whimpered: “I’m so busy… I am so busy… have so much going on.” Almost immediately after, I ran into another friend and asked him how he was. Again, same tone, same response: “I’m just so busy… got so much to do.” The tone was exacerbated, tired, even overwhelmed. And it’s not just adults. After we settled in, we went to one of the friendly neighbors, asking if their daughter and our daughter could get together and play. Horribly destructive habits start early, really early. How did we end up living like this? Whatever happened to a world in which kids get muddy, get dirty, get messy, and heavens, get bored? How did we create a world in which we have more and more and more to do with less time for leisure, less time for reflection, less time for community, less time to just… be? Somewhere we read, “The unexamined life is not worth living… for a human.” W.
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