busyness. noun. The definition of busyness is a state of having a lot of activity, or of not being idle. When you have a lot of tasks to do all at once, this is an example of busyness.
much like our obsession w productivity.. we’re putting the world on hold while we all just put in one more day’s work.. attend one more event.. the juxta of what some of us are doing day to day (in the guise of the urgent or whatever) while many are dying is crazy ridiculous.. people say it would be ridiculous to just stop/pause (ie: superbowls, celebrations, whatever).. while we take a global deep breath in order to reset ourselves.. but it’s much more ridiculous what we’re doing now.. we just can’t see it.. because of our preoccupation w busyness/productivity/supposed-to‘s/whatever..
that the refugee camps are like a shopping mall for paedophiles and that more, much more, needs to be done to help the most vulnerable..t
they (save the children) have to work harder, try harder, not rest and not stop until more has been done. they have barely scratched the surface, and while we continue to insulate ourselves from the horror of it all it is continuing to happen on a scale that is unimaginable..t
i haven’t truly come out of anything and i feel like i’m on borrowed time, and while we’re all sitting here in this big fancy auditorium being served coffee and pastries there are hundreds of thousands of children going thru what i went thru and worse every single second of every single day, and why aren’t we all doing more, much much more..
and upon reading this poem shared by Cathy:
Cathy Davidson (@CathyNDavidson) tweeted at 5:44 AM – 23 Apr 2018 :
Someone tweeted this beautiful powerful poem yesterday @saraHendren https://t.co/AWyoKnYv1W (http://twitter.com/CathyNDavidson/status/988382989976522753?s=17)They called to me — something between squawk and chirp,something between song and prayer — to do something,anything. And, like any good god, I disappeared. Notindifferent, exactly. But with things to do.[..]And as I walked away, I heard one of the men call to me,please or help or brother or some such. And I didn’t breakstride, not one bit. It’s how I’ve learned to save myself.
let’s pause.. reset..