How often this week have you told someone that you are busy, when asked how you are? And has your motivation for that at a deep, possibly subconscious level been your need to be needed?
Ouch, that is a harsh way to start.
We have been musing during this Lent season with the idea of giving up busyness for Lent. This has been inspired by the people at I’m Not Busy, who are encouraging us to stop and take stock of the way we live our lives.
We live busy lives, that is a given. And the idea of giving that up seems ludicrous – if very enticing. What is more of interest is our focus for how we live. And digging a bit further under the surface, our motivations.
I wonder this week if we can stop and ask ourselves some hard questions:
- What do I gain from saying I am busy all the time?
- Who am I trying to please? To humour? Perhaps even to impress?
- What needs am I trying to meet? And why? Who else could do this?
- What am I taking responsibility for that perhaps is not mine to take?
- What am I seeking to cover up or hide behind by being busy all the time?
Because if we are really honest with ourselves – and assuming you are reading this on your own and there is no one breathing over your shoulder asking you to answer these questions right now – there might be some uncomfortable truths here.
Busyness can be addictive and makes us feel self important.
Look at how busy I am! I am in demand because I am useful, sought after, needed, central to other people’s lives….”
We can feed off this need to be needed. Our identity becomes tied to our usefulness to others. The problem with this is there is no end to it. There will always be needs around us that we could try and meet, and if that is how we judge our value and worth, then we will always be striving after meeting them to feed our souls.
If this is you, I realise this is a whole can of worms opening up. It might be worth asking yourself questions like:
- Where do I gain my sense of self-worth when I am not serving other people?
- What do I know and value about myself about who I am, not what I do?
- If I were not busy and had nothing to do, who would that make me?
Our need to be needed is tied to this idea that somehow we believe we are indispensable.
Interestingly, if you look up indispensable in a dictionary, the definition is
absolutely necessary.
Add to this some of the synonyms in a thesaurus which are
significant, needed, required
…and you can see where this is going. This is something we all struggle with, in some shape.
It is a lovely thing to be needed. And not wrong in and of itself – to have skills, time, gifts, knowledge that is needed and valued by others is a wonderful way to serve. However, the problem starts when our need to be needed tips into pathological need.
This is about recognising that we can’t do it all, and we can’t fix it all. And chances are, no one is asking us to either. It is more that we are expecting that of ourselves, or choosing to fill that role.
Saying no to things frees up other people to step in instead. It allows us to see that we are not indispensable. That we are able to be replaced or done without, superfluous – all antonyms to indispensable!
Sometimes it is important to say yes. And to embrace that ‘yes’! To commit to it with gusto and enjoyment and gratitude. But not grudgingly or in a way that ensures everyone knows what a sacrifice this is – martyrdom is very ugly.
And sometimes it is important to stop and ask ourselves, why am I tempted to say yes? Is it because this feeds my need to be needed? Am I tempted to jump in here and take responsibility for a situation that is actually not mine – and the kinder but harder thing to do is to let the other person come to realise what they have to take responsibility for?
If this has raised some challenges for you, do get in touch as unpicking this on your own is hard – but having someone alongside to help you see who you really are and what you want your life priorities to be is a privilege I would love to share!
Or download your FREE self-coaching guide here to give you lots more to work through.