Some of us get so used to the adrenaline rush of handling crises that we become dependent on it for a sense of excitement and energy.
How does urgency feel? Stressful? Pressured? Tense? Exhausting?
But let’s be honest.
It’s also sometimes exhilarating. We feel useful. We feel successful. We feel validated. And we get good at it.
Whenever there is trouble, we ride into town, pull out our six shooter, do the varmint in, blow the smoke off the gun barrel, and ride into the sunset like a hero.
It brings instant results and instant gratification.
We get a temporary high from solving urgent and important crises.
Then when the importance isn’t there, the urgency fix is so powerful we are drawn to do anything urgent, just to stay in motion.
People expect us to be busy, overworked.
It’s become a status symbol in our society, if we’re busy, we’re important; if we’re not busy, we’re almost embarrassed to admit it.
Busyness is where we get our security. It’s validating, popular, and pleasing. It’s also a good excuse for not dealing with the first things in our lives.
“I’d love to spend quality time with you, but I have to work. There’s this deadline. It’s urgent. Of course you understand.”
“I just don’t have time to exercise. I know it’s important, but there are so many pressing things right now. Maybe when things slow down a little.”
Urgency addiction is a self-destructive behavior that temporarily fills the void created by unmet needs.
And instead of meeting these needs, the tools and approaches of time management often feed the addiction. They keep us focused on daily prioritization of the urgent.
It is that a meaningful life is not a matter of speed or efficiency. It’s much more a matter of what you do and why you do it, than how fast you get it done.
The above is adopted from Stephen R. Covey‘s book