Lately I’ve found the word “busy” escaping my mouth. Too busy? Seriously? When did too busy become a synonym for I just don’t want to?
A long time ago, when I was still in love with Walter Benjamin and The Arcades Project I wrote the text below:
April 21, 2006:
“In 1839 it was considered elegant to take a tortoise out walking. This gives us an idea of the tempo of the flânerie in the arcades.” -Walter Benjamin, The Arcades Project
I’ve picked up The Arcades Project again, and have been reminded of how much I adore Benjamin’s views on the importance of the flaneur.
Walking around town never fails to incur a wealth of inspiration and tiny joys. I wonder if walking around town with me must, at times, seem like walking around with a tortoise, as I walk with wide eyes and frequently stop to further investigate my surroundings, taking my time as I wander down the path.
I’m thinking that maybe every time I hear myself say the word “busy,” I should replace it with the mental image of Benjamin’s tortoise. When should I ever be too busy to get inspired and find joy? Heck, when should you be too busy for these things, too?
How did we slip into being so busy that joy is quick to fall off the map?
Even when I’m busy, I try to make the time for joy. Doesn’t matter if it keeps me up late. No regrets though. It makes me happy during the busy, stressful times.