The Momentum Edit

The Momentum Edit is where I explore the thoughts, patterns and conversations that shape how we live. No quick fixes. Just honest observations and practical shifts.

I've realised I tell people I'm busy. A lot.

Most of the time, I'm not lying. I am busy. I've got work to do, people who need me, messages I've forgotten to reply to, and an endless to-do list running in my head.

Recently though, I've started wondering whether sometimes, “I'm busy” actually means something else.

I noticed myself doing it when a friend asked how I was.

That was it.

Nothing was particularly wrong. “Busy” was just easier. It covered everything without me actually having to explain anything.

The more I've thought about it, the more I've realised how often I do this. Busy is a very convenient answer.

Most of the time, that's where the conversation stops. People don't tend to dig much deeper. Busy makes sense. We're all busy. They nod sympathetically, tell you they don't know how you do it, and you both move on.

Nobody asks, “Yes, but how are you really?”

Sometimes I think that's exactly why I say it.

Busy stops the conversation

I've become quite self-aware about something else I do.

When I meet up with friends, I don't like feeling as though I've monopolised the conversation by talking about myself. If they ask how things are, “I'm busy” puts a full stop on it.

It sums everything up in two words.

The attention moves away from me and back onto the other person, which is usually exactly where I'm more comfortable with it being.

I've started questioning whether there's a downside to that too.

If I'm always the one moving the conversation on, am I sometimes stopping the people closest to me from knowing when I actually need a minute? Or a hug? Or just someone to listen?

Maybe “busy” allows us to acknowledge that there's a lot going on without feeling as though we have to take up too much space.

Busy gives us an excuse

There's another reason I think I like telling people I'm busy. It makes people more forgiving.

Forgotten to reply to your message? Sorry, I've been so busy.
Haven't arranged to see you? Things have just been manic.
Forgotten something important? My head's all over the place. I've got so much going on.
Can't make that night out? You know the answer.

People understand. Being busy is socially acceptable. Sometimes I think we almost wear it as a badge of honour.

I've definitely done it. There have been times when I've looked at everything I'm juggling and thought, well, of course I forgot that. Look at everything I'm carrying.

Maybe that's completely fair.

I've also started questioning whether I sometimes use busyness to give myself permission.

There are things we say we want. We want to change jobs. We want to get fitter and healthier. We want to start the business. We want to do something for ourselves for once.

Then comes the perfect explanation for why we haven't done it yet:

“I'm just too busy.”

I've said it. I've believed it. And there have certainly been seasons where it's been completely true.

Sometimes though, if I'm really honest with myself, “busy” hasn't been a statement of fact. It's been a hiding place.

Because as long as we're too busy, we don't have to start.

We don't have to face the fear of failing. We don't have to make decisions that might upset people. We don't have to confront the uncomfortable feeling of not knowing what we're doing.

Busy protects us from ourselves

Perhaps the hardest realisation for me has been this:

Sometimes I've kept myself busy on purpose.

When life feels messy or difficult, having a lot to do gives you structure. It gives you a sense of purpose. When you're constantly rushing from one task to the next, there's no quiet time.

And quiet time is dangerous.

Quiet time is when the thoughts you've been avoiding finally catch up with you.

It's where you start wondering whether you're actually happy, whether this is what you want your life to look like, or whether you've lost sight of who you are.

As long as you've got a pile of washing to do, three emails to write and dinner to make, you don't have to think about any of that.

Busyness becomes a shield.

Getting curious about what's underneath

I haven't got this all figured out.

I still catch myself saying “I'm just really busy” multiple times a week.

These days though, when I hear myself say it, I try to pause for a second and check in with myself:

• Am I genuinely busy?
• Am I avoiding something?
• Am I trying not to take up too much space?
• Or am I just using busyness as a shield because stopping feels uncomfortable?

Most of the time, the answer is a little bit of all of them.

I've also realised that sometimes I've used “busy” as a catch-all answer for a lot of things I didn't quite know how, or didn't quite want, to say out loud.

I don't think the answer is to stop saying we're busy. I think it's simply to notice when we do and get curious about what's underneath it.