Someone tried to sell me something today, something I don't really need, but something she claimed would make my life better because surely I am like everyone else, and "everyone is so busy these days." She proposed to sell me something to alleviate one of my many tasks. I declined. I know I feel plenty busy, what with working for money to pay the bills and trying to be a modestly decent husband and father. Like anyone else, I have basic human needs of food and sleep, and just meeting those can take all the energy left after getting done with work. Then there's a house that's always needing something fixed and a car bound to break down at the least opportune time. Throw in a hobby or two and where's the time to write . . . or read . . . or pretty much anything else? Who wouldn't buy a product that gives you time? I would, were that something I could actually purchase.
As I get older, it sure seems that I get busier, but I increasingly recall my parents and their friends complaining about how busy they were back when I was a kid. I actually remember being pretty darn busy myself back then. I can dream of olden days before I was born, days when I imagine people lived at a slower pace, but I know people complained about the rush of their modern lives even back then, just as we do now.
Busy is a state of mind, a state of mind that apparently will be ever with us and eternally used to market gadgets and gizmos and services. As a society we insist that we are all getting busier, but somehow we never expire from the sheer exhaustion of it all. Our continued existence leads me to believe we may not be as terminally busy as we claim.
Don't get me wrong, we have to attend to the things we must tend to. Eating and sleeping are still mandatory for our continued existence, and most of us have other needs to be filled as well. We have to meet all those needs, and maybe even a few wants, within the finite time available to us.
But maybe we shouldn't waste the precious time we have complaining about being so damn busy.