Buzzyness vs. Busyness: A Misspelling That Gets It Right
I was writing an email to a client this morning and stumbled over the correct way to spell busyness. It just looked wrong to me as I wrote it, so I did a quick Google search and discovered that one of the most common misspellings of the word busyness is buzzyness. That made me chuckle because it seems exactly right: when I’m caught up in my busyness, I’m not grounded, focused, or calm. I’m buzzing.
Buzzing from task to task. Buzzing through to-do lists. Buzzing past my kids, past Eric, past myself. Snacking while I’m at the computer rather than stepping away and having a proper lunch. Some days, when I’m “too busy” I feel like I’m buzzing like a caffeinated bee, moving fast but without any clear direction. And unlike the bees, who have a system and a purpose, when I’m too busy, I’m often flitting around reacting instead of intentionally doing.
I don’t know who first dropped the i in busyness and swapped it for a z, but I’d like to thank them for accidentally nailing it. Buzzyness feels like exactly what happens when our calendars get overstuffed and our attention gets fractured. It’s what happens when we try to be everywhere, do everything, and be all things to all people.
But here’s the thing: buzzyness is not the same as business, busyness o. Or even productivity. When we’re stuck in buzzyness, we’re often doing a whole lot of things, but not the things that matter most. We’re spinning. We’re checking boxes. We’re moving, but not necessarily moving forward.
And let me be clear—I’m not anti-busy. Some seasons of life (and work) are just full. Building something, raising kids, launching a project, taking care of aging parents—it can all be a lot, and that’s okay. But there’s a difference between being full and being frenzied. Between being engaged and being scattered. Between intentional effort and buzzyness.
What I’ve learned—and continue to re-learn—is that clarity is the antidote to buzzyness. When we know what matters most, we can prioritize. When we have a plan, we can say no (or not now) to the things that don’t align. When we pause long enough to think instead of react, we start to replace the buzzing with focus.
So the next time you feel yourself buzzing—jumping from thing to thing, answering every ping, racing against a clock you didn’t set—stop for a moment. Ask yourself: Am I busy? Or am I buzzzy?
And maybe, misspelling or not, buzzyness is exactly the warning flag we need.