The Desert

I usually try to keep this blog light and informational (gearing it toward work and the hum-drum of daily life). But despite the stress and busyness of our lives, I am trying to *not* be so busy.

[SO just as a warning, this post is personal. Don't hold it against me if I cannot stay on the path I describe below. And while I am not going to apologize for talking about faith and religion here, stop reading if that sort of thing makes you uncomfortable.]

Anyway, last Wednesday marked the beginning of Lent. Most people know Lent as the time when Catholics give up candy or reruns of old Cheer episodes. For others, it's a time to reflect on what isn't going exactly right in your life and make some changes. Regardless, we revere this season as a chance to challenge ourselves with some self-deprivation and sacrifice. Jack has a religious understanding of the season, utilizing ritual acts to mark the season. I tend to take a more spiritual approach.

So to help us on our respective journeys and to, hopefully, encourage us to learn from each others' minds, I purchased a book on monastic spirituality . It describes the teachings of St. Benedict as a tool for finding peace in everyday life. Based on a television series in the UK called "The Monastery" (shocking, I know), five lay men entered the monastery for 40 days. They did a similar experiment in the US, at the monastery in New Mexico. What intrigues me about these experiences is that common people like you and me can actually recenter their lives in peace and quiet.

Both notions seem foreign to me right now...peace and quiet.

Whenever anyone asks me how I am, I always respond "I'm so busy!" Or if I'm *really* busy, I will say, "It's been *crazy* busy." If I'm hinging on the brink of breaking down, I'll say, "It's been hellaciously, insanely busy." I cannot remember the last time someone asked me how I am and I answered something like, "I'm peaceful!" Or "I'm truly happy." You get the picture.

Part of it is my personality. However, some of that busyness is freely chosen.

So the very first page of the book asks you, "How did I get this busy?" I felt blindsided by this opening chapter title, unable to even get past it as I began reading the book. How did I get this busy? The book then goes on to discuss the roots of busyness...How much of this busyness did I create? How much of it is because I am truly overworked? How much busyness is my ambition creating? Do I like how important I feel when I'm busy? And most importantly, is there a way to undo some of the busyness and regain a sense of balance?

Busyness is a relative concept; everyone perceives their stress and busyness differently. A stay-at-home mom may be busy in balancing laundry, grocery shopping, dinner, and running kids all over the town for sports practices. A student may be busy in working a part-time job while in full-time college. An aspiring hospital manager might be filling her plate with a few too many items and trying to change the world a little too quickly. All of these people risk burn-out.

Rather than becoming an examination of conscience, for me, it became an examination of ambition, drive, and goals. And I realized the concept of "busyness" forms a continuum. One end of the continuum is a selfless busyness and the other is a selfish busyness. So if all of my hard work and stress is for God and serving God's greater glory, well, it might be okay that I'm this busy. But if I discover that I am trying to serve myself and my own vanity by my accomplishments, well, that's not so great.

And that's where I am, caught somewhere in the middle. I'm very objective and goal-oriented and usually need quantitative scorecards to measure progress....and this is one "goal" I cannot measure. Not to mention, it usually takes a lifetime to complete.

I may discuss this more as I work through the book. Some of it's very personal, but I think other people are trapped in their own notions of busyness, too. Perhaps we can learn together.