Just read this article on Wit & Delight:
It got me thinking about our culture of Busyness. It’s true that if I’m not busy, I feel like I’m floundering. Like I don’t know what to do with myself. If I don’t feel productive, I’m unsettled.
But what does productive mean? Is it making a dent in a project? Is it spending quality time with your family?
Why can’t productive just be “giving yourself time to relax”? It would be productive in a way because you’d be recharging your energy reserves. Clearing your frazzled mind. Realigning your soul (or something less existential).
Why is it that I can’t sit for more than thirty seconds before my skin starts to crawl and I feel the need to bounce around the house, hopping from one chore to the next? Why can’t I take an evening and do absolutely nothing without feeling that gnawing feeling in my gut- the one that tells me I’ve wasted those few hours?
When I look back on my life, what do I want to remember- chores or peace?