Get busy!

What’s this bouncing around in my head?

Hello friends and readers. Happy Friday to you all. A lighthearted post today that hopefully gets you thinking about what peace means in your own life. Here’s a riff on mine. Enjoy.

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Is too much peace bad for you? I think not.

It has nothing to do with having nothing to do—there’s always something more to do.

Like write. Exercise. Read. Meditate.

Like work—whoa easy there cowboy.

I have plenty to do. I have a wife to love and care for.

Dogs to exercise and feed and play with.

Aging parents to attend to.

Friends and family to connect with.

A book to finish.

A day to ponder. A tomorrow to hope for. A yesterday to build upon.

Responsibilities.

Volunteering.

Leisure.

Play.

People to help.

I got stuff to do.

Thinking—oh that thinking—that comes anyway. No need to actually do it—it’s automatic—always there. It’s the other stuff that requires the get up and do it.

It hasn’t always been so. For much of my life there was no need to say to myself—get busy. Busy was a sign of progress—of growth. Or was it?

Busyness is often just that—busyness. So many of us go racing through our days bouncing from one responsibility to the next never really pausing to see if we’re accomplishing anything of meaning. We’re doing what we’re supposed to be doing.

Who defines what we’re supposed to be doing? Do we? In many cases we do not. Our list of busy is set by others. Our work—our families—our addictions—our belief systems—all combined set in motion a whirl of must-do activities. It’s not hard to see the results. People are sicker than ever—more frustrated than ever—more desperate to find purpose and meaning and love than ever. And that elusive peace? Fuggehdaboutit. When you grant an external locus of control over your life—there can be no peace.

I’ll feel peace if we can just stop Trump. I’ll feel peace when I get that promotion/raise/award/boyfriend/new car/2,000th subscriber.

Yeah—no—you won’t.

Peace comes from within. All of it. The world will never be peaceful. You—on the other hand—actually can be peaceful in spite of the world.

We all know that the magic resides not in the number of boxes checked—or the number of meetings hosted—or a favorable election outcome—or the number of Simoleans piling up in our bank account—but in the moments. It’s a constant struggle to pause a beat and witness those moments.

So what motivates my current inner call to get busy?

Where does it come from? Old training? Old tapes playing in my head? Or perhaps—one can hope—a new path. Only now that I’ve thoroughly examined my old and currents ways of doing things—and continue to do so—can I approach the balance in my life in a different way that is more efficient (ewwww)—more productive (what is that?)—or more intentional. Bingo).

Am I happier when I’m busy? I once thought I was. Was I truly happy—or was I just too busy to actually think about whether I was happy or not? Not sure. We’re so conditioned as humans—certainly as Americans—toward action and achievement. Many of us—most of us—have a difficult time sitting still with ourselves. The idea of doing nothing is antithetical to our conditioning. We’re wasting time. Life is short!

I spent my career in the business world. Perhaps lifelong creatives or academics are more able to stop—take breaks—allow it to come. Or maybe not.

Part of this is age-related. I cannot run on fumes like I used to. Hopefully at least a little of it is that I just don’t choose to live that way anymore. Don’t want to. Part of this is career related. I have more or less retired from working for anyone else. I have not retired from work—the traditional definition doesn’t work for me—but if/when I choose to work it will be on my terms—and only if it aligns with the other important things listed above that I have on my schedule.

Have I earned the right to rest occasionally? You bet I have. Is that even an acceptable thing to think? When you reach 66 and have lived hard and fast for much of it like I have—then maybe you can judge. For now—it’s up to me to be the judge, jury, and executioner.

I look forward to naps like I never have.

I used to need naps cuz I’d stayed up all night doing fun and self-destructive shit—but I never got them. I was busy. Plow through—sleep when you’re dead. Naps now come when I want them more than when I need them. 11 AM—sure why not? 3 PM—optimal. 20 minutes or 90—it matters not. What matters is the act of shutting it down. When everything else is the world seems to be spinning off its axis—I’m taking a beat to rest my overworked body and underappreciated brain. The dogs and I make an event out of it. One of their favorite things out of my mouth—I know cuz they’ve told me so—is NAPPY?

After nap time I think I’ll check in with a few folks by phone. Maybe take a walk. Read a few chapters. Have a snack. With the utmost intention.

World Peace? As if. More like Whirled Peas.

If you search internally for peace—you might find it. If you find it—try it on. If it fits—wear it around. If someone else feels it from you—maybe it’ll spread to them. Get busy!

Then go take a nap.