
I’m amazed by how fast life is rushing by lately.
Back when I first entered the working world, the days felt painfully slow. I can remember staring at the black-and-white clocks on the sad beige walls of my entry level jobs, wondering how the hell I was going to make it through a full day.
Now, eight-hour days fly by. Whole weeks zoom past my face like rush hour traffic.
As a young adult, I always wondered why the f*ck “the adults” were in such a godforsaken rush all the time. Now, I have become one of those adults.
The same false urgency I once noticed in others (even thought I couldn’t quite put it into words), has now become part of my own life. The situation is not yet hopeless, but it has reached the point where I need to start paying attention.
How and when did this happen?
Part of the answer is simply that life itself has actually gotten faster. Over the last two decades I’ve grown up, and gradually assumed responsibilities I just didn’t have as in my early 20s. This dynamic is real, normal, and sometimes overwhelming – but it’s not really what I think has me feeling rushed.
The fact that time is going to feel faster as I age? I can roll with that. Everyone finds a way to, in the end. But the idea that life itself is now a race against time that I can only “win” by hustling faster than other people? Something about that just doesn’t ring true for me.
Have you ever made yourself so busy (at work or otherwise) that you truly believed you couldn’t afford to even glance up at the sky?
This happened to me recently. I was working on a project with a tight deadline when I unconsciously glanced away from my monitor and looked up at a beautiful cloud formation through my office window. And the moment I thought, “That’s beautiful!” another thought raced into my head: I don’t have time for daydreaming.
Real Urgency and False Urgency - It’s Hard to tell the difference!
There are sometimes real urgencies in life. But outside of medical emergencies, most of what we rush for daily, isn’t all that vital.
In fact, the artificial rush actively harms us – think of the actual ways that people (myself included) will risk their lives just to catch a train or make the changing yellow light during rush hour.
This isn’t anyone’s fault. It’s just human nature.
We rush from thing to thing, and we seek validation and comfort from anywhere except within our own hearts. Most of us (especially me!) would rather put out a thousand tiny fires than to draw one full bucket from the deep well.
Fast-and-furious busy work lends a momentary sense of completion, but rarely a sense of fulfillment. The “false work” in my life feels incredibly urgent. But it is not.
The “real work” of my life is love. The work of love is vitally urgent – pressing, even. And yet love has no deadline, apart from the collected sunsets of my allotted time on Earth.
The Shift
I’m currently turning the pages of the wonderful book Anam Cara by John O’Donohue. This passage called to me:
“Love is our deepest nature, and consciously or unconsciously, each of us searches for love. We often choose such false ways to satisfy this deep hunger. An excessive concentration on our work, achievements, or spiritual quest can actually lead us away from the presence of love. In the work of soul, our false urgency can utterly mislead us. We do not need to go out to find love; rather, we need to be still and let love discover us.”
John’s advice carries real risk, making his words all the more meaningful to me. The risk is that if I stop hurling myself into the activities and pursuits that I believe define me, then I might realize those things actually do not reflect who I am at all. And that is incredibly, incredibly frightening.
I’m still rushing through life, all the time. But ever so slowly, the rush is starting to yield. My new mission – should I choose to accept it - is more demanding, and paradoxically, far more forgiving than all the work I’ve done before.
Here’s to showing up for this work, and to holding the line. Because you know what they say… love isn’t always on time.
Peace,
Rian Casey Cork