Unpopular opinion: being busy is not a flex

There’s so much we aren’t prepared for as adults.

No one tells you how much of life is made up of small, constant responsibilities—the mental load of remembering, coordinating, responding, and recovering. Feeding yourself. Sleeping enough. Taking care of your body and mind. Healing from experiences that shaped you long before you had language for them. Add children into the mix, and everything is amplified.

Life is full. But being constantly busy is something else.

One morning recently, before noon, I emailed my doctor, did a short stretch session, paid a few bills, cleaned my cat’s litter box, and ran three loads of laundry. None of these tasks were dramatic. None were optional. And none felt particularly noteworthy on their own. But stacked together, they took time, attention, and energy—before the “real” workday even began.

This is the backdrop many of us are operating against. And layered on top of it is something relatively new: constant access. Work emails, messages, and requests don’t respect time anymore. There are no natural pauses, no clear edges. Even when nothing urgent is happening, the possibility that something might be creates a low-level sense of pressure that’s hard to turn off.

There are seasons when life should be busy. New jobs, new babies, major transitions. That’s normal. What isn’t normal is living in a permanent state of urgency—especially when it’s driven by work. At some point, we have to ask: are we actually busy, or is our nervous system just overstimulated?

I believe that even when work is complex—especially when it’s complex—it should be easier. Complexity demands clarity. Systems should reduce friction, not create it.

This is especially true in housing work.

Housing workers are often stretched thin, underpaid, and juggling demanding caseloads alongside their own full lives. Much of their time is spent navigating coordination and follow-up that pulls them away from the human, relational parts of the job—the parts that actually move people into stable housing.

If we want to make real progress on the housing crisis, we have to stop normalizing overload. Supporting housing workers means building systems that respect their time, absorb complexity, and create breathing room—not add another layer of urgency.

Being busy isn’t a badge of honor. It’s often a sign that something is misaligned.

I sometimes wonder if we resist changes that could make our lives easier because busyness has become familiar. Productivity can feel like purpose. Struggle can feel like proof that we care. And slowing down—even when systems make it possible—can feel unsettling, like we’re doing something wrong.

But ease isn’t laziness. Clarity isn’t a lack of ambition. And work that fits into a full, human life isn’t a failure of commitment—it’s a sign of something working the way it should.

If we want to take on problems as complex as housing, we may need to start by reexamining what we’ve come to accept about work, worth, and exhaustion. Real change might not just require new systems, but a willingness to let go of the belief that everything has to be hard. If you’re interested in some out-of-the-box approaches to supporting housing work, you can read more in our previous post, Resolving the Housing Crisis Requires Radical Thought. Not More of the Same.