LOVE LETTERS TO TANZANIA: Will you be 'crayz busy' in 2018?

In sixteen days we farewell 2017. Citizens who had New Year’s resolutions will either be proud of themselves or fumble for excuses to allay the disappointment delivered by New Year’s Eve’s critical self-appraisals.

But there is still time: industrious people have two weeks left to frantically pursue their goals, to become the better versions of themselves envisaged 350 days ago. This humble columnist fits into the latter category. If life issued report cards, I would not make the grade. Few of my 2017 goals will be completed when the fireworks light up Sydney Harbour.

How could this happen? My resolutions were realistic, were they not? I am not lazy, am I? For most goals, there simply was not enough time. Certain that I could practise what I preach, I had resolved to drastically reduce my ecological footprint, to exercise regularly and nurture meaningful relationships - while also making a difference as a volunteer in my local community. Instead, late one evening, grumpily eating greasy fast food in the car, half way between work and home, with a sore neck from hunching over my desk for hours, it dawned on me that 2017 was a year of regression.

With 2018 also looking busy, is it even worth making new, well-intentioned but obviously pointless plans to do more for the greater good while also achieving personal aims? If students fail, they repeat the year’s curriculum, so should unattained 2017 goals remain on our 2018 resolutions lists – like my plan to “complain less and do more to fix issues”? Clearly, this goal was not compatible with my 2017 workload: I whinged frequently, especially when tired or overwhelmed, lacking sleep or neglecting my health.

Contracted ‘busyism’

A friend believes I have contracted “busyism”, a pandemic associated with Western life-styles. It begins with mild symptoms like the pursuit of a “good life”. As it spreads, the brains of usually reasonable people begin to malfunction: instead of planning lives which fit into 24 hours per day, the infected try to fit in 30 or more hours of work, social commitments, self-improvement, charitable endeavours and recreation. When they fail, their “busyism” intensifies, clouding their judgement and becoming contagious.

Talking about being “crazy busy” as if this were a noble trait, “busyists” infect others who soon also see running around like a headless chook as the proper way to live. Once “crazy busy” themselves, frantic new victims threaten to pass on the illness to their offspring, feverishly chasing opportunities for their children, from baby-gym to music lessons, from dance and sports to advanced tuition for a head start on next year’s curriculum in this competitive world.

In the final stages of busyism - utterly over-committed, time-poor, competitive, unhealthy, sleepless and complaining – it may take serious intervention for sufferers to re-gain perspective and spare their children this affliction.

Some East African readers may believe that they are immune to busyism. However, if you studied overseas, you may already be carrying the virus. It could erupt any time. You need close monitoring for the first signs and symptoms.

The only cure for “busyism” is honest self-reflection, because the frantic pace of our lives is partially self-imposed. Perhaps my only New Year’s resolution for 2018 should be to accept that every day will continue to last 24 hours and that we cannot “do it all”, “have it all” or “fix it all”. There is nothing impressive about being “crazy busy”. Serial multi-taskers actually become accident prone and anti-social while “juggling” too many demands.

Some goals and obligations should be abandoned, not rolled over into another year of guilt. Could slowing down actually make us more productive and add quality to our lives and relationships? Instead of rushing from one duty to another, I resolve to be more mindful in 2018, to listen more closely and to truly connect with the people in my trusted inner circle. Please remind me if I forget!