The Burden of "Busy"

In the past 24 hours, I have done the following: 

-Hosted a few friends for drinks while we got ready for the evening
-Donned the Dorothy and Toto costumes one final time
-Rocked out at Soul Friday and the Saloon
-Post-bar, sat around a full dining room table, gobbling chips and chatting until 3:45 am
-Woke up six hours later, bright-eyed and bushy tailed
-Debriefed about the night with my roommate
-Met three lovely ladies for a run around Lake Calhoun
-Spent time with my parents at Minnehaha Falls
-Headed to Uptown to gather up some stuff I'd left at Chateau Fremont
-Walked a dog that a friend is baby-sitting for the weekend
-Skipped over to another friend's house to chat for a couple of hours

And that doesn't even touch on the seven days prior to that.  It's truly been non-stop.

Now, it's 8 pm on Saturday night, and I'm sitting alone in my apartment eating Vietnamese take-out and taking it back about 12 notches.  Normally, being by myself at home on a Saturday night would be tortuous and I'd feel lonely and bored.  But tonight I'm deliberately choosing it.  Not just because I'm tired (which I am) but because I'm consciously recognizing that it's okay to do this. 

Our culture might beg to differ.  Our culture validates busy.  Our culture equates busy with success and popularity.  Our culture (or is it just my internal compass, that I'm projecting on "culture?") tells us that if we're not busy, we should feel lonely.

I get a lot of validity from my lifestyle.  People often remark about the breadth, depth, and girth of my social calendar in a way that vacillates between envy and judgement.  I'm proud of my social stamina.

But that pride and validity needs to be intrinsic.  It can't be dependent on people, parties, and pumpkintinis (Quit rolling your eyes.  I needed the third "P", and I was at a party with people and pumpkintinis recently) to find value in who I am.

So tonight I am valuing myself and my own company.  And I know that being by myself, even on a Saturday night, doesn't mean that I am alone in a larger sense.  Busy can be a burden when it interferes with our own self-worth.  So, tonight - at least for a few hours - I'm telling myself, "Don't let it."

Whatever it is that you're getting your validity and pride from: your job, your children, your sport, your body, or your social calendar.... those are all good, worthwhile things.  But none of them are really where self-worth should come from. Tonight, for me, is about recognizing that.