My Dear Protégé,
Do not underestimate the power of busyness. It’s one of our most elegant disguises, and unlike so many of our tools, people adopt it willingly. Eagerly, even.
It is remarkably easy to teach them to wear busyness like armor. The fuller the calendar, the safer they feel, as though a packed schedule might protect them from themselves. When every hour is booked and every minute accounted for, there is no space for inconvenient questions to slip in, and certainly no quiet moments where something uncomfortable might surface. Self-reflection, after all, is precisely what they’re trying to avoid. Keep them moving, because motion is an excellent anesthetic and unlike most drugs, this one is praised.
Convince them that productivity is the only currency that matters, that exhaustion is the unmistakable proof they are worthy of being taken seriously, and that anyone who dares to pause must be deficient in ambition, discipline, or relevance. Teach them to distrust stillness as something dangerous, to experience idleness as a quiet moral failure, and to regard silence as squandered potential -- an empty space begging to be filled, claimed, or exploited.
If anyone asks how they’re doing, train them to respond automatically and with pride: “So busy.” Let it land like a humble brag, a badge of honor, a subtle announcement that they are needed, in demand, and definitely indispensable.
This works beautifully because presence is our enemy. Real presence -- a leader who pauses to listen instead of checking a device; a parent who notices what goes unsaid; a friend who stays instead of multitasking -- this builds trust. And trust ...creates connection. And connection has an unfortunate tendency to wake people up.
We cannot have that.
So keep them scattered. Encourage multitasking, precisely because it does nothing particularly well and leaves them feeling perpetually behind. Fill their days with meetings that accomplish very little, notifications that fracture every thought, and evenings that quietly dissolve into work. Applaud their responsiveness, reward their constant availability, and make certain they feel just enough guilt when they stop that they always squeeze in one more call, one more message, one more task...just to be safe.
The busier they become, the less likely they are to notice the quiet sense of emptiness creeping in. They’ll mistake fatigue for fulfillment and urgency for purpose. When something feels off, they’ll assume the solution is simple: it just requires more effort, more activity, and more doing.
Psychology, of course, would spoil this arrangement if they paid attention. Research insists that constant busyness degrades focus, erodes creativity, and accelerates burnout, while rest restores clarity and effectiveness. But no worries, we have an easy workaround. Frame rest as indulgent and definitely make boundaries seem selfish. Suggest that slowing down will most certainly result in falling behind.
Busyness is a perfect drug. It feels productive, looks impressive, is socially celebrated, and it numbs just enough to keep deeper questions at bay.
Best of all, it destroys quietly.
Keep them addicted.
Yours in perpetual motion,
— The Voice Within