Tag Archives: learning

You’re Not Busy, Are You?

I haven’t counted, but I’ve heard a lot of people whining lately about how busy they are. Perhaps I’ve done my fair share of claiming busyness, although I try not to, partly because of a bias I developed a few years ago when I was asked by a client to teach “time management.” Since I believe prescription without diagnosis is malpractice in medicine, management, and education, I looked at what was going on in his organization.

I concluded that time management wasn’t the issue. Priority management was the issue. The corporate culture had developed an unintended value that appearing overworked and stressed was important. I joked that most employees seemed too busy to do any meaningful work.

There’s an old joke about the company president who issued the memorandum that “We will keep having meetings until we figure out why nothing is getting done.” Talk about confusing activity with accomplishment!

I suppose it’s always been true, but lately it seems like being busy is some sort of badge of honor. The busier you are, the bigger and shinier badge you get to wear. I think it’s contagious. I know it’s competitive.

If you’re a social media buff, see how many timeline posts you can find claiming, “Well, I don’t have much to do…”

Contrast that with those who are compelled to report their entire day’s schedule. It has a humorous aspect. “Gee, I’m so busy I barely had time to find these cute cat/puppy pictures to share.”

I’m sorry to say, I’m not impressed by busyness, particularly when it becomes a reason (excuse) for failure to do something others are depending on. I know several people who will spend a lot of time explaining how busy they are, how much they have to do, and how sorry they are they haven’t gotten to… I bite my tongue so I don’t observe out loud; they could have crossed a few things off the list in the time they spent telling me their story.

If your goal is staying busy, that’s not a difficult achievement. But it doesn’t necessarily equate to meaningful accomplishment. Doing nothing can be an accomplishment, too.

I had the good fortune to attend a few lectures by Ned Hermann back in the late ’80s. Ned was a true pioneer in the field of creative thinking and reasoning. He was also a great storyteller. In one of his lectures, he was explaining “theta” — those low-frequency brain waves associated with the early stages of sleep and the process of dreaming. They are also associated with enhanced creativity. He shared that he was sitting in his recliner, pushed back and relaxed, consciously entering a theta-like state. When his wife called to him to take out the trash, he replied, “Can’t now… I’m working.”

I don’t think it would have been any less true if he’d said, “Can’t now… I’m busy.” What might appear as “doing nothing” may have great value. It really is about value.

Busy is about being engaged–it’s not about being overworked and overwhelmed. Busy is not a bad thing when it means the busy person is anxious to contribute and is seeking action.

The question we may need to ask ourselves occasionally is whether or not we are busy (engaged) with things that are truly important. How we decide importance may be a different topic for a different day. For now, let’s agree being busy for the sake of being busy isn’t effective or efficient. When we think we’re too busy to do certain things, we’re really saying those things aren’t important. Or at least they aren’t important enough to make time and find the energy for, along with the other
stuff.

It sounds rude, but I’ve found myself wishing people would be more honest and offer the explanation, “That’s not something I’m willing to make important right now.” Being honest might be as important as being busy.

You’re not busy, are you?

Kevin Hart

Quick Quip #26-04

I remember a middle school essay I wrote. Well, actually, I don’t. I do remember the teacher’s correction. She wielded her red pen to explain that she docked my grade for misspelling the word “truly” seven times (truely). I wanted to ask her two questions.

  • Since I thought I’d spelled it correctly the first time, why would I spell it any other way subsequently? (The essay was written in longhand, before pre-spellchecking existed.)
  • Why did she not justifiably criticize my overuse of the word? (It was a short essay.)

In fairness to Mrs. Alexander, I never mispelled “truly” again.

What lessons are you learning that you aren’t actually (truly?) being taught?

More Than Toast

During the “WordCamp” held in Europe recently, one of the reported sessions challenged attendees to map out how to make toast. One attendee reported, “Sounds simple. It isn’t. Groups within the session came up with wildly different process maps — anywhere from 3 steps to 20. Use pre-sliced bread or cut from a whole loaf? Plug in the toaster first or load the bread? How dark is dark enough — and who decides?”

And then, during my ten minutes scrolling Facebook, I encountered these questions. “If AI writes your book, designs your cover, shapes your ideas, and polishes your voice… are you still the author? We are calling it ‘writing,’ but in reality, are we witnessing the slow death of originality in publishing? Technology has always helped writers—but this new wave feels different. Where exactly do we draw the line between assisted writing and fake authorship?”

At first glance, making toast and writing books seem unrelated. But both questions force us to examine the assumptions hidden inside the words we use.

My schedule for today doesn’t leave time to overthink this, but it does leave enough time to connect the two items.

First, when teaching, we must be conscious of our assumptions. Learning should be fun, and life is the best teacher. Those who claim to teach are just here to help. We think things are obvious, but to some, they are not. When we are teaching, we need to be aware of the automatic judgment calls we’re making.

Second, vocabulary must be considered both in teaching and making those judgment calls. If you have a sophisticated toaster and use presliced bread, can you claim to be a toastmaker? Perhaps more accurately, you are a toast assembler. I remember a colleague who often said, “Words don’t mean; people give words meaning.” Vocabulary is not only important when speaking and writing. It’s important when thinking.

Hopefully, we discover that this may be a time when the questions are more important than the answers. In the Facebook post, the poster has revealed his perception or, more accurately, his bias. I don’t know if it’s intentional, but he seems to be looking for support and agreement. Most social media posters are. It’s just one reason for the lack of meaningful dialogue and the basis for keyboard wars.

Meaningful dialogue isn’t complicated, but it can be difficult. During my consulting years, I experienced this firsthand. I was working in a food processing plant, interviewing a line worker. When I asked her about her likes and dislikes, she hated how cold it was in the plant. I asked her what she did with leftovers from dinner at home. She looked incredulous but replied, “I put them in the fridge.” After making the comparison to handling food in the plant, she sincerely said, “Is that why it’s cold? I thought you kept it cold so we would work faster.”

The best learning is exploration and discovery. We don’t have to suspend judgment, but we do need to be conscious of making it.

Whether we are making toast or authoring books, core principles must be maintained. Some fundamentals must remain if we are going to produce good, edible toast and good, readable books. We may take shortcuts to get there, but the shortcut shouldn’t diminish the fact that we’re doing something worthwhile.