Ask a Busy Person

If you want something done, ask a busy person.”
– Benjamin Franklin

One of my colleagues – an especially hard-working and time-pressed one – consciously avoids the word ‘busy’. As an exercise I tried the same for a week and found it surprisingly awkward. That was an education. I’ll be trying to make it a long-term habit, as the mere effort has changed my outlook. The poor word itself must feel overwhelmed by over-use. Usually preceded by ‘too’, it implies exhaustion, unwillingness and stress (yet another over-worked word).

Of course, many people genuinely like to work. A beach holiday would be the stuff of nightmares for some. When hailing a taxi recently I was greeted by a man well into his seventies. He’d taken to the life of a cabbie on retirement, as he’d found his days too long and uneventful. How spritely and positive he was, how willing to be of service.

I love to be occupied too, and would always rather have too much to do than not enough. But almost any action can be healthy or unhealthy depending on the extremes to which it’s taken, and – no doubt more importantly – the intentions driving it. Food is good and necessary, but eating too much or too little can be harmful and may lead to compulsions. One needs a certain number of belongings to exist in reasonable comfort, but hoarding for the next zombie apocalypse is perhaps going a bit far. Just so with work. There comes a point when one must say: good enough is good enough.

For me this is not a natural tendency. I caught myself the other day with a shovel in both hands, decanting compost from one bin to another and determined to discharge the task ‘perfectly’. Yes, every last pineapple peeling, each shred of brown paper, the very teabag in the furthest corner must be winkled out, cast onto the wheelbarrow and transported without the loss of a single worm or crumb of material along the way. I laughed aloud at myself. Here is a stinking heap of waste, mouldering, writhing with flies and nameless invertebrates – the least perfect substance one could imagine. Yet I perspired not just from the physical labour, but also from the self-imposed duty of a timely and tidy execution.

Once my self-mockery had receded, I took a deep breath (facing away from the wheelbarrow), and asked myself where God is in all this. For me there is always – and must always be – a reply to that question, it’s just a matter of remembering to ask. He is perhaps easier found in the kitchen or the vegetable garden, but I’ve no doubt He resides there too – in the transformative nature of compost, rife with as many metaphors as microorganisms.

God calls,
But I am either busy
Or I do not answer.”
– Sri Chinmoy, ST 26248

The Sri Chinmoy Centre recently offered a free meditation course in York. I always find such classes illumining and enjoyable – sharing a practice that has been life-changing in the case of my peers and myself, and which proves at least life-enhancing in many more cases. For me it’s far more than just a hobby, but I’m glad to see this simple tool entering the mainstream, now widely adopted for physical and mental health, if not for spiritual growth per se.

Sadly, many people feel too busy to dedicate even 5 or 10 minutes a day to switching off devices and delving into quietude. They’re frustrated not to do it ‘perfectly’ first time, even though the effort itself is almost sure to bear fruit. The chronically overwhelmed – those who would perhaps benefit most – are often the least likely to practise. Strange how the advance in technology seems only to have made us feel more fully occupied. Since we no longer have to dig the field for food, hew out our own shelter from stone, chop wood for warmth, stitch our own clothes from hide or handwovens, how did we come to this?

Beware the barrenness of a busy life.”
– Socrates

In the 1930s John Maynard Keynes predicted my generation would be working a 15-hour week. In fact our expectations – of cleanliness, comfort and enjoyment – have risen in line with our standard of living, if not beyond it. The perceived value of time – both for leisure and work – is growing constantly. The vast array of choices available in every sphere of life add pressure and take time. Add to that the pressure of social media and other time spent (or wasted) online – incessantly checking emails, news, stats – often while trying to complete a number of other tasks, and the perceived increase in busyness is no great mystery. Perhaps Keynes did not reckon on the power of Parkinson’s Law – that work really does expand to fit the available time. He surely didn’t reckon on the power of the Internet to distract, confuse and harry.

Ever since a clock was first used to synchronise labour in the 18th century, time has been understood in relation to money. Once hours are financially quantified, people worry more about wasting, saving or using them profitably. When economies grow and incomes rise, everyone’s time becomes more valuable. And the more valuable something becomes, the scarcer it seems.”
– The Economist

Whereas the privilege of sloth used to be a sign of wealth in centuries past, it seems busyness has become a badge of honour. There is a growing sense that if one is not doing at least two things simultaneously throughout all waking hours, and is not open to communication the rest of the time, one’s life is not important, one is either selfish, lazy or has nothing valuable to contribute. Indeed gratuitous busyness can be driven by the ego, by a lack of self-acceptance, by the fear of meeting one’s very self in stillness and quietude, and of being confronted by inadequacies in the dark alley of the mind. (You needn’t wonder how I know this.)

Doing nothing is better than being busy doing nothing.”
– Lao Tzu

Though I eschew social media and avoid wasting too much time in other ways, I regularly catch myself assuming busyness is related to self-worth, if only as a distant cousin. Occupation is good – it pays the bills, it builds and creates useful things, it helps the body remain fit, keeps the mind out of mischief and brings a sense of contribution that is no doubt valuable – but inwardly it is just a vehicle and not the goal. Clearly I am only part-way towards that goal myself, but it’s one I long to reach. With baby steps I’m gaining ground, thanks to the teachings of Sri Chinmoy. Essentially the key is to feel awareness inwardly and outwardly at the same time during any activity. Though it may sound counter-productive, rather than splitting attention, it actually focuses attention.

During action, the best way to meditate is to remember to offer yourself, the action, and the result of the action to the Supreme. When you stop meditating and enter into the world of action, think of your action as a continuation of your meditation. When you meditate in silence, you go very high, very deep. And when you begin your daily activities, feel that this is another form of meditation which is called manifestation. Meditation in action is manifestation.”
– Sri Chinmoy, MCV 71

At our meditation retreats in New York twice a year, each visitor takes at least one shift preparing or serving meals. Cooking takes place at a vegetarian restaurant called Annam Brahma, across the road from the grounds where we meditate and where Sri Chinmoy himself spent a great deal of time during his life. Whether weighing or chopping vegetables, stirring great vats of curry, or washing up afterwards, we work in silence as per Sri Chinmoy’s request, excepting any words deemed necessary. I love the stillness amidst the dynamism. A somewhat monastic atmosphere pervades, an almost tangible divinity, far from anything to be expected in a hot and bustling kitchen.

Work soulfully.
Lo, you will not be able
To find any difference
Between Heaven and earth.”
– Sri Chinmoy FF 9161

Though the tasks are simple and leave the mind free for the most part, one almost cannot think about mundane earthly things in a place that has been dedicated to the soulful preparation of food for decades. According to Sri Chinmoy, a cook’s consciousness can affect the food itself, and thus the recipient. While preparing food at home I try to recall the feeling of Annam Brahma as best I can, with varying success. I am not a natural multi-tasker, but in trying to centre myself, clear my mind and focus solely on the task at hand, I am better placed at least to avert disaster in the kitchen.

If I may use the forbidden word once more, in all my life I have never been so busy as I am these days – or should I say I have never had so little time to waste – but I’ve also never felt so well or so content. Although my days are long and start early, my week’s paid work takes just slightly more time than Keynes predicted. I feel very fortunate the rest of my time is largely taken up by household chores. Despite a genuine concern for the rights of women, I confess to being particularly well suited to domesticity. As any nun or monk will tell you, simple tasks lend themselves more readily to a life of inner reflection.

There is no such thing
As insignificant work.
Therefore, we must needs do everything
With our heart’s love
And our life’s respect.”
– Sri Chinmoy FF 7207

Ours is a dynamic and abundant path, and I’ll be forever learning along the way. Sri Chinmoy asks that we have an occupation, that we remain active and serve others as much and as often as we can. But just as a prayer recited in parrot-fashion may not reach the intended Recipient, work carried out mechanically, unwillingly, or even resentfully can have no inner benefit, and perhaps only little benefit outwardly. Ours is to try and live the inner and outer lives in tandem. In so doing, one may fit ever more into a day or a week. Busyness then becomes ever more efficient, and time seems increasingly elastic. Benjamin Franklin was right about more than just electricity.

Not how busy you are
But why you are busy
Is what matters.
Are you busy because
Your mind is criticising everyone
Or because your heart is loving everyone?”
– Sri Chinmoy, FF 4490