Busy Is a Choice
Reflections on the power of presence.
When building something new, there are certain moments that you will never forget. Moments that feel like guideposts helping you chart the path ahead or forcing you to look back to make sure you haven’t lost your way.
There was one particular meeting in the early days of 11 Tribes that prompted many “are we lost” types of questions. We had just hit the one year mark of starting the company and we were beginning to see the early signs of momentum. The person I was meeting with was someone I had been tracking since the start – they possessed a unique combination of skills and experiences that made them seemingly a perfect fit to be both an advisor and investor. I even allowed myself to hope that they would consider being a mentor as I navigated this unfamiliar world.
As the call drew near, I was really nervous. We had momentum, sure, but that momentum was table stakes for this conversation. It still felt like these types of meetings were make or break. And I still believed that it was my ability to communicate a compelling vision and strategy that would ultimately win the day.
I wish there was a long and enrapturing story to share about how the call went better than expected. We got the money! I got the mentor of my dreams! But that didn’t happen. It went bad. And I felt completely responsible. Every one of those thirty minutes felt like pulling teeth and I quickly felt guilty for misusing this person’s time. As his eyes darted across the screen from one notification to another, I could feel my blood pressure rising while my competitive drive and survival instinct kicked into high gear. I shared our story, our strategy, our traction – but in reality I shared my desperation and frustration that I could not capture this person’s attention.
Had I asked a bad question? Was I too over-eager? Was there something in my teeth?
But as I look back on that meeting, and many others like it, I see a pattern in how they all began. We’d say hello, I’d ask how they are, and I’d be met with a polite yet chilling: I’m really busy.
From that moment, this Very Busy Person would leave me with less confidence, more uncertainty, and a more vivid sense of desperation than where I had begun.
And the ironic part is I bet they were very busy; aren’t we all? But when used as a shield to avoid true connection, being busy is a choice. We are choosing to neglect the power of our own presence.
Today, as a leader more often in the position of that Very Busy Person, I am just as guilty of making the same choice he did. Choosing to use busyness as a shield to avoid true connection. Choosing to neglect the impact, and responsibility, of my presence.
Early on at 11 Tribes, I did my best to show up fully present in every meeting. For all I knew, that could be the meeting that unlocked everything – I was young and naive and thought an overnight success was still a real thing.
But as the responsibilities of life have increased and the influence of my company has grown, I find myself in more situations where remaining distant, disconnected, busy, is the most self-preserving thing that I can do. Self-preserving, because really being present is hard.
A young entrepreneur building in an industry that we don’t invest in is hoping for a few minutes to learn about the process of raising capital – should I be present or busy?
My four year old wants to show me the craft he made at school yesterday, but I was supposed to leave ten minutes ago and my phone is buzzing non-stop – should I be present or busy?
Presence requires us to put aside, even for just a moment, our goals and ambitions – which for an achiever like me sounds like some sort of medieval torture. If I’m not achieving, what value do I offer to the world? True presence forces us to wrestle with the root of our identity. Do I matter because of what I can produce–how busy I can be? Or do I matter in service of something greater than myself? One leads to a life filled with transactions, where we optimize for how much we can get, for how little, and how quickly. The other has the chance to create true connection.
We must choose wisely.
I wish this next part was me telling you precisely how to enter into every situation fully present. I wish there was a secret catchphrase that, when uttered, would drown out the noise of the world and allow us to focus on the person right in front of us.
I wish!
In my own life, busyness has been a constant. For many years, I viewed it as a badge of honor. But as I continued to scale my company, I realized that allowing myself to feel constantly pulled in a thousand different directions (because that’s what being busy feels like, right?) was going to break me eventually. I would find myself sneaking a quick peek at the inbox during family dinner–asking my son to repeat his new dinosaur discovery because I had to respond to the email that definitely couldn’t have waited till the morning. Maybe it’s a small thing–but if we are what we repeatedly do, I did not like who this version of me was becoming.
More than anything else, it’s not the father or husband I want to be. And it’s not the Dad my son deserves. I knew I had to make a change.
In an effort to make this change I’ve sought out connections with people who feel remarkably present. Those who have chosen to live unhurried lives–or who can put aside busyness to be in time with me—and surround myself with them. Watch them. Learn from them. Mirror them. And that’s exactly what I did.
I found a coach: a man who has every reason to be the busiest of us all but refuses to rush through life. A man who is intensely present and has shown me the power of walking in wonder.
I found a therapist: a woman who has absorbed the most harrowing of human experiences and yet receives my challenges, deficits, and concerns with grace and care.
And I found someone to help me write: a guide who brings me back into touch with myself and my emotions that, when busy, seem to suddenly disappear.
Over the course of many days, weeks, and months of watching, learning, and experiencing these people, I began to recognize in myself the constant buzz that we call being busy. That relentless, subtle agitation knowing all the things that still have to be done. This is not to say that it disappeared; it is still with me. But once I was able to recognize it, name it, I was able to start making a choice.
And then all of a sudden, things slowly started to change. I found myself listening to hear rather than listening to respond. I found myself carving out time to simply think rather than achieve. And I found myself experiencing my own emotions in ways I had never felt before.
There is one last essential question that we’ve yet to address. Why make this choice?
Is choosing to be busy really as bad as I’m making it out to be? Is a life full of transactions really inferior to life in service of something greater? Maybe. Maybe not. That’s a question only you can answer.
What I can tell you is what it’s like to fully experience the power of another’s presence.
It feels like belief.
It feels like this person sees something in me that I don’t even see in myself.
It feels like for the first time in maybe a very long time, I’m right where I’m supposed to be.
That’s why we need to make this choice. Because I promise you there is someone in your life right now who needs to feel that belief, who needs to feel like they’re not in the wrong place, yet again.
You have all the power you need to help that person.
It’s just on the other side of being busy.
Saying no is a hard thing, especially when the things you say no to might also bring "value" and benefit. It is almost like we need a present-value opportunity cost for all of these positive present-value options that yield little future value...