Just how busy are we? Helen Pearson
writes that we may not be as busy as we think we are. Citing research that looks at times logs from 1961, 1984, and 2015: “In 1961, 80 to 90 per cent of people were eating breakfast, lunch and dinner at regular times; by 2015, this pattern had mostly vanished, with more people eating and snacking throughout the day.”
But what about our work week?
In surveys, men working full time report that they work an average of 42.9 hours per week and women 39.3 hours. UK time-use diary data from 2014–15 suggests that they actually work 40.2 hours and 37.3 hours respectively. (The data also shows that those who spend the most time working are single parents and parents with full-time jobs.) Similarly, surveys suggest that we overestimate the length of time we exercise by as much as double.
It exposes the big myth that we are busier than generations have been in the past. “The authors also propose that people wear their busyness as a badge of honour. ‘The words “I’m terribly busy at work” act as a means of status enhancement, signalling importance and indispensability,’ they write.”
In 1991, the economist Juliet Schor advanced the now conventional thesis that global competition forced Americans to toil longer and rest less. She based this on rough estimates that people gave during interviews with U.S. census takers over three decades. Meanwhile, two sociologists, John P. Robinson and Geoffrey Godbey, were asking people to fill out time diaries noting exactly how much time they spent on each activity of the day right after they’d done it. They concluded that Americans work less than they did in the 1960s. How do you reconcile what people said with what their time diaries showed? You acknowledge that Americans feel more pressed for time, whether they’re working harder or not.
Today, Americans actually work fewer hours than previous decades but feel more pressed for time. Why?
Since our modern world sees our highest good being individual freedom, happiness, self-definition, and self-expression, we’ve rejected or deconstructed traditions, religions, received wisdom, regulations, and social ties that restrict individual freedom, happiness, self-definition, and self-expression. The problem is traditions, religions, received wisdom, social ties (like family and community) have historically been the “meaning building” things of life (as Shulevitz puts it). We are now more pressured into finding meaning and significance in our accomplishments and careers than ever.
It’s not that we are working more that’s wearing us out, but that we are expecting more out of our work. It’s not meant to provide this much inner stability and meaning.
We are not working more, nor are we resting more. So what are we doing?
We are online. Which is why we are restless. The happiness that we are working so hard to achieve at work seems to be given to the people we follow on Instagram. Moya Sarner
points out, “Clinical psychologist
Rachel Andrew says she is seeing more and more envy in her consulting room, from people who “can’t achieve the lifestyle they want but which they see others have. ” She says, “I think what social media has done is make everyone accessible for comparison,” she explains. “In the past, people might have just envied their neighbours, but now we can compare ourselves with everyone across the world.”
They go on describing just passive use of Facebook or Instagram (you know, the kind of passive, laying on your back after work, scrolling, not necessarily looking intentionally): “The more you’re on there scrolling away, the more that elicits feelings of envy, which in turn predicts drops in how good you feel.”
Always working. Always scrolling. Never at rest.
On the Sabbath, Shulevitz
writes, “not only does drudgery give way to festivity, family gatherings and occasionally worship, but the machinery of self-censorship shut down, too, stilling the eternal inner murmur of self-reproach.”
The eternal inner murmur of self-reproach. Do you know what she means by that phrase? There’s something deep down inside us, an inner “murmur”—a whisper—telling me I need to prove myself. Most of us sense that “inner reproach” on our days off: what I have done is not enough; it’s not good enough. So our days off are not restful but anxious feelings of “I need to get back; I need to check in; I need to answer that email!”
Today, I’ve reviewed a handful of articles/books that have described our age as: (1) Hyper-insecure (2) Lacking Self-awareness (3) Having an Anxious Presence.
I sense that in my own life and it breaks my heart to think of churches full of lives like this. It’s hard to imagine depth of life and fruitful discipleship with these dynamics breathing down our necks.
It seems there aren’t silver bullets to combat these issues other than ordinary Sabbath keeping, Bible reading, slow prayer, spiritual friendships, regular worship, and praying the Spirit exorcises these demons out of our lives and church communities.
One great step is to stir an imagination for what a Sabbath day can look like and what it may do in our hearts. Here are a few books that have helped me along the way:
The Sabbath (FSG Classics), Abraham Joshua Heschel. From a Jewish perspective, but provides surprising insights and theological reflections on the commandment to rest. He’s especially helpful in correcting the view that Sabbath is merely a strategy for getting more work done.
Sabbath: The Ancient Practices, Dan Allender. I love this book. It has many practical parts, but the best part is that it gives an imagination for how a Sabbath day is to be experienced and how to receive it as a gift. One thing to keep in mind—he sometimes describes the experience of the day through what could only be done by semi-retired individuals who are empty nesters with a good bit of excess money. But don’t let that keep you from having an imagination for the day.
Christianity Today has a
list of books I have yet to read but plan to.
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