Busy is boring.
Among my network of thirty-something friends and retirement-age colleagues, being busy is losing ground to being human. A friend who reduced her hours at work is glowing when she tells me about the weekly meditation class she attends now. A colleague at the end of her career is declining consulting jobs to hone the harder skill of being married. I’m on the spacious train too with the decision to move from weekly blogging to spontaneous letter writing.
Clearing our schedules of the busy is a step toward honoring the wonder of being a person. Clearing our minds of the busy, I’ve learned, requires a much larger leap.
It was sometime last Fall when I decided to free my mind from the clutter. I’m pretty descent, some might even say obsessive, about keeping the amount of clutter in my life to a minimum. I donate already-read books and already-obsolete kitchen gadgets to the Salvation Army at least once a month. I buy groceries enough for only three days; for much of the year, the freezer has only one barely-touched bottle of vodka to cool. And I have a one-in, one-out rule for clothes. Still, I had the sense that the stuff in my mind could outmatch an episode of Hoarders.
You can find me – and the rest of this article – at eChurchGiving: