My husband just shared this essay at the New York Times, The ‘Busy’ Trap, and I have to admit it hits home. In fact, one of the things that I had already told him, with my departure from SFWA, is that I’m not allowed to volunteer for anything for at least a year.
If you live in America in the 21st century you’ve probably had to listen to a lot of people tell you how busy they are. It’s become the default response when you ask anyone how they’re doing: “Busy!” “So busy.” “Crazy busy.” It is, pretty obviously, a boast disguised as a complaint. And the stock response is a kind of congratulation: “That’s a good problem to have,” or “Better than the opposite.”
It’s not as if any of us wants to live like this; it’s something we collectively force one another to do.
Notice it isn’t generally people pulling back-to-back shifts in the I.C.U. or commuting by bus to three minimum-wage jobs who tell you how busy they are; what those people are is not busy but tired. Exhausted. Dead on their feet. It’s almost always people whose lamented busyness is purely self-imposed: work and obligations they’ve taken on voluntarily, classes and activities they’ve “encouraged” their kids to participate in. They’re busy because of their own ambition or drive or anxiety, because they’re addicted to busyness and dread what they might have to face in its absence.
I find myself looking at the calendar, and my travel schedule, and wondering how and why I did that to myself. At the same time, I love traveling and I love seeing people I know. I don’t dislike any of the things that I’m doing but I do describe myself as crazy busy.
Today I’ve been cleaning out my personal email box which I’ve neglected because I was always aware that once I finished that I would need to go check SFWA mail. It’s a relief to have that vacancy and yet…
And yet, I can already feel myself thinking of ways to fill that free time. You know what? I need to fill that time with friends, and reading, and going to movies.
What about you? Do you get sucked into the “busy” trap?
I do get sucked into it until something stops me cold (IE: surgery and illness afterwards). Now, I have to look at what I have and figure out how to manage it–knowing I am actually behind and not “Jenn’s personal time schedule” behind.
Yes! And finding myself resenting my busyness, I had to start reminding myself that, like the author pointed out, my busyness consisted entirely of life choices I had made for myself–things that I insisted I wanted.
Once I acknowledged that as a middle-class American, most of my stress was a luxury I’d chosen to pursue, I stopped complaining, and a few months after that, I started quitting a lot of my stresses. I feel like such a slacker now that I’ve unloaded one of my major busynesses, but I’m too happy and relaxed to care.
Hi Mary.
The NY Times article resonated with me, too. I have a difficult time saying “no”. I feel so honored and happy someone would ask me to do something that sometimes I am reluctant to refuse things and take just “me time”.
But you are right. The free time you have now that your successful run as SFWA VP Is done is to fill it with friends, family, reading and just “time off”.
A drained and unenergetic Mary is a Mary less able to write the novels and stories I and your other readers enjoy.
“Busyness serves as a kind of existential reassurance, a hedge against emptiness;”
~Mr. Tim Kreider
My health issues put my “busy threshold” at a much lower level than most people’s, so my challenge is always to tell myself that just because I am not doing as much as most women my age, it doesn’t mean I’m lazy. I have tried to push myself beyond my capacity before, and I just turn into a very unhappy and unpleasant person. I would rather be less productive and more kind, get fewer pats of approval and give away more genuine smiles.
I can’t help but notice that this topic immediately follows the Clarion Write-a-Thon post.
Yep. But I already write every day and my commitment to the Clarion Write-a-thon is only 1000 words per day instead of my usual 2000.
My busyness is certainly self-imposed. For me the “busy” trap is a byproduct of the wanting trap (I also tell myself it’s because I have a day job which forces me to write in the same time slots that compete with everything else). The wanting trap is the one where I want way more in my life than I could possibly fit, and I struggle with feeling like I’m depriving myself or sacrificing when I say “no” — the hardest part being balancing people time vs. writing time, telling the friend who wants to see me, “how does three weeks from now sound?” because I have a self-imposed writing deadline.
I try to remind myself what my priorities are. If writing really is my top priority right now, then by choosing it over a social engagement, I’m actually giving myself what I want most.