The Tribute We Pay to Life

In a 1922 book of short stories entitled Balloons by Elizabeth Bibesco, she says of one character, “He is invariably in a hurry—being in a hurry is one of the tributes he pays to life.” Contrary to what we might think about people in the early 20th century, they apparently lived hurried lives just as we do—although we have since sped up our lives even more through the invention of computers, microwaves, airplane travel, and the like.

Our attitude about being in a hurry certainly doesn’t seem to have changed much since 1922. Being busy is viewed as a badge of honor; we almost feel a sense of shame if a friend asks us what’s going on and we reply, “Nothing much.” It’s easy to see how being in a hurry can be considered a tribute to life, because the world is full of wonders and we have a limited life span, so rushing to cram in as many experiences as possible is a way of acknowledging and appreciating what life has to offer.

The problem with this approach is that appreciation requires time. Speeding through life blurs our vision, so we fail to grasp the beautiful complexity of the people and things we are hurrying past. Being constantly on the move also overloads our mind, heart, and soul, leaving us frazzled and irritable rather than peaceful and grateful.

In his Rule, St. Benedict counteracted our impulse to lead a busy life by requiring stability and stipulating set times for prayer, meals, work, study/leisure, and sleep. Ironically, the discipline of following this horarium frees us from busyness because there is no other option but to be where we are called to be. Praying slows our breathing, sitting down to a meal with others fosters relationships, working set hours forestalls preoccupation with productivity and success, taking time to read aids in focusing our mind, and resting/sleeping reminds us of our human needs and limitations.

Upon reflection, it seems that slowing down rather than being in a hurry is our real tribute to life. We do not need to regret what we might miss by moving at a more deliberate and intentional pace, for as Anne Sophie Swetchine observed, “To love deeply in one direction makes us more loving in all others.”