In the 1930s, one of the greatest economists of all time, John Maynard Keynes, made perhaps the worst economic prediction of all time. He was noticing how technology was replacing all kinds of tasks and jobs. At the current rate, he guessed that in just two generations, technology would replace much of that busy work. “Our grandchildren,” he projected, “will work just three hours a day.”
Keynes was, of course, incorrect. The world has, in fact, gone the opposite direction he thought it would. Busyness has only grown since then. Each generation reports feeling busier than the last. Researchers at Harvard say the pandemic only accelerated this. They discovered that the pandemic led to people working more hours per week and juggling more tasks.
I’m guilty of falling into this cult of busyness. I’m an author, journalist, professor, and speaker. At any given moment I might have a book I’m working on, an article to write, a lecture to prepare, and a talk to dial in.
Some weeks all this shit builds on itself, becoming a giant wave that feels like it’s about to break on top of me. I start to think that I’m spread too thin and that all my work is going to be awful, how I’ll be judged for it, how the work will then stop coming, and … you get the point.
In times like those, I’m lucky when I remember one of my favorite Koans.
The setup is this: the Buddhist philosopher Fayan is going on a pilgrimage from monastery to monastery. Keeping busy with pilgrimage, he’s heard, is what a Buddhist philosopher must do to become enlightened. As Fayan is leaving one monastery to go to another, he encounters Zen Master Dizang. And so, the koan:
Master Dizang asked the visiting Buddhist philosopher Fayan, “Where are you going now?
Fayan answered, “I am resuming my pilgrimage.
Dizang asked, “Why do you go on pilgrimage?”
Fayan said, “I don’t know.”
Dizang said, “Not knowing is most intimate.”
Hearing these words, Fayan had an opening experience.
Koans are purposefully vague and mysterious. But this koan is most often interpreted like this: When Dizang asks Fayan why he goes on pilgrimage, Fayan has a moment of deep reflection where he realizes that he’s just keeping busy. Fayan has been abiding by some social narrative about what Buddhist philosophers do — which is to go on pilgrimage. Fayan has been going from monastery to monastery because if he doesn’t, he’ll be judged for it, he’ll be a failure, and how … you get the point. With Dizang’s words, Fayan realizes all of this. His mind clears and he realizes he’s not truly sure why he’s on pilgrimage. With a clear mind — in Dizang’s words, the “not knowing” — Fayan achieves enlightenment.
“Not knowing is most intimate.” This koan reminds me that the stress I put on myself is driven by what I think I know. By the tales I tell myself about what I need to achieve and when and in relation to who. By social narratives. The truth is that I’m better off when I forget all that stuff and just do the work how I’d like to do it.
This koan doesn’t do my work for me. But it does buy me a lot of space.
