The Cult of Busyness: How Staying Busy Helps Men Avoid Their Feelings
Our culture is awash in ways to make our lives more productive so we can get everything done. This is a trap men often fall into. When we are struggling in our relationships, we often push harder at work rather than find a way through what is actually causing the trouble. Staying busy is often a way to avoid what we are feeling. We have to learn to turn toward the discomfort of life in order to reach the joy of our relationships.
We labour at our daily work more ardently and thoughtlessly than is necessary to sustain our life, because to us it is even more necessary not to have leisure to stop and think. Haste is universal because everyone is in flight from himself.
Friedrich Nietzsche
The irony, of course, is that busyness has almost nothing to do with productivity and everything to do with anxiety management.
Tamara, Museguided
Why Do Men Stay So Busy?
There seems to be a cultural bias toward busyness. Look around, even at your own community. Doesn’t it seem like people are constantly busy? Have you ever called a friend and heard that they were just hanging out with nothing much to do today? Instead there is a constant stream of preoccupied focus on doing, and it is causing so much exhaustion among men. Nobody questions it. In fact, you often get a “good man” badge for the effort.
I see two big problems here.
First, the men I meet are completely exhausted. They feel hollow inside and have no idea how to get off the treadmill. Many hold onto the hope that if they keep going, there will eventually be a payoff: less work and more time with the people they love. Meanwhile, the exhaustion strains their relationships and erodes connection. That lack of connection is the hollowness. Cranking out spreadsheets, finishing home improvement projects or crossing items off a to-do list can feel satisfying for a moment, but those things don’t fill us up inside. Humans lived in tribes for most of our existence, and feeling connected to our people is what fills us up.
The second big problem is the one I want to focus on here: busyness is a way we avoid our feelings.
When we’re focused on everything that needs to get done, in the flow of ticking items off the list, we aren’t paying attention to what we feel. That’s understandable, because anxiety doesn’t feel good. And since men don’t get consistently positive responses when we do share our feelings, over time it becomes easier to ignore them and stay distracted.
The real issue is that when our attention is locked on doing, we aren’t fostering safety in our families, metabolizing difficult emotions or building reliable relationships.
The Cost of Being Busy
The cult of busy sells us a false story: if you work hard enough, eventually you’ll get to slow down and enjoy your life. That’s not what happens. The to-do list never ends. The treadmill just gets faster, and we never get time to recover.
Busyness is often an energy in our bodies that relentlessly pushes us forward. The story of the good man says he is always doing something, and that doesn’t leave enough room for joy, ease and relational connection. We get so caught up in taking care of the people we love that we lose our deep connection with them. In my experience, this is the big loss for many men. The joy I have with my kids, my wife and my friends is what gives my life meaning. When I focus primarily on my to-do list, I drift away from what really matters.
You might be thinking, “But who is going to mow the lawn or take out the trash?” I get it. I’m not here to analyze your activities. I’m here to ask, “Why are you doing this?” If it really needs to be done, great. My worry is that we’re doing it to avoid sitting with the internal experience of emotional distress.
The real cost of this busy-centered culture is that we don’t take the time to build the intimacy we all crave. We want to feel a deep connection with our partners, our kids and our community. Instead we feel distance and grief, which pushes us to do even more to avoid those feelings. It becomes a vicious cycle.
The Way Out Is Always Through
In his book Four Thousand Weeks, Oliver Burkeman talks about the need to be honest about how little time we have. If we live to 80, we get about 4,000 weeks. Thinking about life this way is sobering.
Burkeman suggests that our busyness is often a way to avoid our mortality. We try harder and harder to do it all rather than face the reality that every choice means giving up some other choice. While I sit here writing this, I’m not outside playing with my kids.
When we face the limits of life, we give up the fantasy that we can optimize our way into getting it all done. Instead, we can look at what we’re doing and decide whether it’s how we actually want to spend our time. Hopefully, we begin to prioritize what matters most. I have a strong bias toward deeper engagement in relationships, and that may not be what you want.
Just as we avoid the limits of our mortality, we often struggle to be with what is happening inside us. Busyness is a form of avoidance more than a lifestyle choice.
I believe the first step is turning toward our emotional experience, being real about the state of our relationships, and admitting our lives are out of balance. From there, we can take small steps toward right livelihood with ourselves and others.
Most of us invest a lot of energy, one way or another, in trying to avoid fully experiencing the reality in which we find ourselves.
Oliver Burkeman
How This Shows Up in My Life
I’m a member of the Church of Constant Doing. It’s hard for me to sit still and not be in the whirlwind of activity, most of which is in my head. I grew up in a family that prioritized work over relationship. I wrote this for those who may find it helpful, and for myself as a reminder.
What matters most is spending time with my loved ones.
I have to admit that when things are challenging at the end of the day and I’m emotionally depleted, it’s easier to focus on tasks than to be in the messiness of family life. When my boys are fighting, it’s hard to summon the energy to be there for them. When my wife is irritated with me, it’s hard to move toward her and be understanding. Some nights I flit around the house, avoiding those taxing emotional moments and staying focused on what needs to get done. There is always something to do.
Here is what I’m trying to change. Instead of avoiding these relational moments, I’m working to turn toward my avoidance and exhaustion and admit what I’m feeling. I want to get better at telling my wife how I feel and asking for support. When I do, the heaviness in my body starts to lift. I feel less alone, more connected and cared for. When I open up to my sons’ high energy and goofiness, I find moments of joy and fulfillment.
Fixing the garage door won’t be an important memory at the end of my life. What will matter most is how emotionally connected I feel to the people I love.
Ready to Step Off the Treadmill?
If you recognize yourself in the cult of busyness, you don’t have to sort it out alone. I offer therapy for men in Denver and telehealth across Colorado, including therapy for dads who want more presence at home. You can also hear more conversations like this on the BrassBalls TenderHeart podcast. When you’re ready, start with a free 30 minute phone consultation.
Wishing you the day you need to have!
References:
Burkeman, Oliver (2021). Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York, NY.
