I first met “Crazy Busy” when she worked for one of our clients. She was always, well, crazy busy. Sometimes she was Super Crazy Busy, but mainly she just identified as Crazy Busy. I worked closely with her for several months on a long-term assignment, and I gradually realized that her frenetic motion and staccato, sharp speech didn’t amount to much actual output. She always seemed hassled, hurried, and horribly behind on her deliverables. As the late John Wooden profoundly said, “Never mistake activity for achievement.”
I checked in with her recently. Twelve years later, she is “busier than ever.” Sadly, she is now divorced and has a strained relationship with her teenage daughter. I hope she unshackles herself from this restlessness and reminds herself of what is truly important. Our work is significant, but it is essentially a methodology for making a societal contribution — one that enables us to earn money to tithe, invest, and, hopefully, spend meaningful time with those we love.
Then there was “Super Slammed,” the human resources director for a client who, sadly, never seemed to prioritize the human part of his job. Much like Crazy Busy, he was always “behind the eight ball,” although I never sensed he was actually short-staffed. I believe his busyness simply caused him to be ineffective and inefficient when it came to actually doing business.
In the Chinese language, the character for busy (忙) is composed of two symbols: heart (心) and death (亡). I think they’re onto something; it literally translates to “killing the heart.” While busyness suggests frenetic, unfocused motion, I’ve noticed a distinct calmness and purposefulness in the consummate professional. The last I heard, Super Slammed was “let go,” which in Corporate America is usually a polite translation for being fired.
I also once served on a voluntary board alongside “Buried.” He was always late to meetings, and even when he was present, he seemed absent. While the rest of us were motivated to put our collective “shoulder to the wheel” for the organization’s mission, tension grew whenever he failed to show up or neglected the commitments he had made.
I hadn’t heard of Buried for eight years until his name recently surfaced for a potential board position. His candidacy was quickly “buried” due to his historical lack of productivity. I hope he eventually unburies himself from his burdens; I know he truly has a heart for people and a desire for purpose.
I am coming to the conclusion that the busyness of life is most often self-imposed. I love living here in my adopted country, but I think so many of us in this Great Land of Productivity and Possibility source our identity from how much we carry on our own shoulders. The sad reality is that much of what we’re carrying either doesn’t really matter or isn’t actually real.
You see, Crazy Busy is still the same, only worse. Slammed had everything taken off his shoulders when he was laid off, and Buried is missing out on service opportunities because he is never truly present.
Workplaces need focused individuals, not frenetic ones. Marriages and families need parents who prioritize love over money. Volunteer organizations need board members to be in the “here and now” business, not the “there and never” busyness.
What I hope for most of all for such people is a change of heart — or, at the very least, a change of language. My observation has been that highly effective people rarely use words like “busy,” “slammed,” or “buried.” Instead, they speak calmly of being “focused” or “fully engaged,” or of “working through a challenging season.”
I believe we are better leaders, better co-workers, and — most importantly — better family members, neighbors, and friends when we refuse to let the monikers, we give ourselves spin us in circles until we lose sight of who we are, and whose we are.
Paul Butler is a Santa Clarita resident and a client partner with Newleaf Training and Development of Valencia (newleaftd.com). For questions or comments, email Butler at [email protected].
