Why I stopped being busy

“I’m fine! Busy!”

The standard reply from 21st-century Westerners when asked how they’re doing.

Notice the add-on: mentioning busyness is a mandatory part of answering this ostensibly innocent question. Being busy is a social norm.

“Yes, mum and dad, I’ve already cleaned my bed least once this year, passed some of my exams and on top of that I have succeeded in making all my flatmates think I’m super busy. Now, money, please?”

Asserting busyness appears to be a hedging move of some sort, implying: ‘I’m rocking life, it’s not like I have spare time, who do you think I am.’

To convey this implicit message, one pronounces “busy” a bit louder, in a confident and prompt manner. After “I’m fine” is spoken in a more or less neutral tone, one slightly raises one’s chin, puts forward one’s chest and self-assuredly voices the magic word: “Busy!”

Point made.

“And how are you doing?”

Now I’m supposed to make clear how awesome my live is. That’s not really my thing, so I usually respond with something like “Nice and calm”.

The amount of surprised responses this gets me is truly surprising.

Who exactly is doing well?

A while ago, I was on a weekend trip with some friends, one of whom had come up with the brilliant idea of bringing his work phone. The phone accompanied us to all the activities we had planned — when we went for a beer, the phone got one as well.

A lot of busy people give off the impression that they are under some kind of never-ending pressure. This is contagious: their whole being is always ‘on’, never at rest, slightly agitated — it’s irritating.

One afternoon, we went to an amusement park. After deciding which rollercoasters to tackle and which to skip, a deliberation my busy friend didn’t catch because he deemed his work phone to be more important, he happened to disagree with our choices and a discussion broke out. I snapped at him, saying he shouldn’t be looking on his phone all the time. He responded in the most condescending tone of voice I have ever heard:

“Business, Maarten.”

It was a fine display of what the French novelist Marcel Proust (1871–1922) described so aptly as

“The self-satisfaction felt by ‘busy’ men — however idiotic their business — at ‘not having time’ to do what you’re doing.”

Indeed, busy people generally take their busyness to be a good thing.

That’s a mistake.

Diligent does not mean valuable

This look-how-busy-I-am game that we’re all playing rests on two mistakes.

One: devoting less time to working does not mean laziness. Being productive and being busy are two different things.

Two: that something takes up a lot of time, does not automatically makes it worthwhile. A task which requires a huge time investment is not thereby a significant task. Doing something unimportant well doesn’t suddenly make it important. Often, busyness results from insufficient prioritizing.

You might want to ponder on these differences for a second or two.

Why — if it’s not for the sake of protecting my image as a busy person — am I spending my days like I do? What value am I genuinely creating? What am Ireally accomplishing?

Are you genuinely making a significant contribution or merely supplying yourself an alibi?

Do you suffer from it?

In 1845, American philosopher Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862) observed:

“The incessant anxiety and strain of some is a well-nigh incurable form of disease.”

In Africa, the people do not suffer from this disease. They have their priorities straight. What stuck with me most from my travels on that continent is the relaxed (but not indifferent) attitude that most people bring to bear.

Take, for instance, their greeting ritual. The universal “I’m fine” is followed by a warm smile and friendly, in no way provocative eye contact: “My family is well.”

“And how are you doing?”

The West: Fine, busy.

Africa: Fine, healthy family.

Makes you think, doesn’t it?


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