When We’re Always in Motion

I know you know people who seem to have made a lifestyle out of being busy. Too busy.

Their calendars are full, their phones are always nearby, and there is almost always somewhere to go, something to accomplish, someone to call, or something that needs to be done. If they happen to have an empty afternoon, they find a way to fill it. If there is a quiet moment, they reach for the next task. They are constantly moving from one thing to another.

Generally, we admire this kind of person, calling them energetic, productive, responsible, engaged. They’re the ones who get things done. Dependable, involved, and rarely sitting around doing nothing. Sometimes, of course, that’s simply who they are. Some people genuinely enjoy a full and active life.

What are we avoiding?

But there are other times when constant activity may be serving a deeper purpose.

Sometimes being busy keeps us from being still long enough to notice what is happening inside us.

Consider that.

When we’re always occupied, we don’t necessarily have to think about the relationship that isn’t working, the disappointment we haven’t processed, the grief we haven’t allowed ourselves to feel, or something else we’re avoiding. As long as we’re doing something, we can postpone whatever might surface in the quiet.

This isn’t always conscious. Most people who stay constantly busy aren’t thinking, I’m going to keep myself occupied so I don’t have to deal with my feelings. It’s unconscious, a habit so deeply ingrained that they don’t recognize what is happening.

They may simply feel uncomfortable when they aren’t doing something. Rest can feel like laziness. An unscheduled day can feel unsettling. Sitting quietly with a cup of coffee can seem almost wasteful when there are dishes to wash, emails to answer, errands to run, and people who might need a casserole.

Our culture loves constant motion

We live in a culture that rewards motion. Being busy can make us feel important. We become the person who is always needed, always available, always doing something for others . And there’s satisfaction in that.

But there is also a danger in confusing being needed with being fulfilled. Not the same thing at all.

Constant motion can also keep us from experiencing our own lives very deeply. We can become so focused on getting through the day that we don’t actually inhabit it. We’re making dinner while thinking about tomorrow. We’re driving while mentally reviewing our to-do list. We’re talking to someone while glancing at our phones. We put the person we’re talking to on hold to take another “urgent” call. We’re already anticipating the next appointment, the next obligation, the next destination.

The day gets accomplished, but was it actually experienced?

Did we actually sit with our dinner guests and enjoy real conversation or were we so busy preparing and cleaning up that we never took time to really interact? Or do we think we’re interacting but have no idea what they think?

As we age, we have an opportunity to look at our daily life differently. Many of us have fewer external demands. The children grow up. We retire. Responsibilities change. We may have more control over our schedules than we did when we were younger. And yet we all know people who continue to live as though they are late for something.

(and sometimes they are!)

Our relationship with time

Perhaps that’s because slowing down requires us to confront a different relationship with time.

When we’re young, we tend to think we have plenty of it. There will always be another weekend, another opportunity, another year. As we age, we become more conscious that time is not an unlimited resource. If we get that, it can make an ordinary afternoon feel surprisingly valuable.

A quiet afternoon is no longer necessarily an afternoon that needs to be filled.

It can be an afternoon to sit outside and watch the birds. It can be a long conversation with a friend. It can be reading a book, taking a walk, listening to music, watching the changing light through a window, or simply doing nothing in particular. These things can look insignificant from the outside, but they may be some of the moments in which we actually feel most connected to our lives. I know that’s true for me.

Is it a full life or one that is always full?

There is a difference between having a full life and having a life that is always full.

One can be rich and satisfying. The other can leave us exhausted and wondering where the time went.

None of this means we should abandon activity or become passive. Movement, purpose, work, travel, social connection, and projects can bring enormous pleasure and meaning. The question is whether we are choosing them or simply using them to avoid the discomfort of stopping.

It might be worth asking ourselves occasionally: What happens when I don’t have anything I have to do? How do I feel when the house is quiet? Can I sit with myself without immediately reaching for my phone or finding another task?

The answers can be revealing.

Sometimes we discover that we’re just tired and need more rest. Or that we’ve been avoiding a feeling. Sometimes we find that we’re lonely or that something in our lives needs to change.

And sometimes we learn something much more pleasant: that we actually enjoy our own company when we give ourselves the chance to experience it.

Maybe that is one of the gifts of getting older. We become less interested in proving how much we can accomplish and more interested in deciding what is genuinely worth our time.

There is nothing wrong with a busy life. But there is something wonderful about a life that contains enough space to notice itself.

Because eventually, we may realize that the goal was never to get through as many things as possible.

It was to actually be here for the life we were living.