When the phones stopped ringing at the various trading rooms and offices of Lehman Brothers, what did the habitually over-stimulated and hyperactive coworkers hear?

I mean: what did they hear after “I can’t believe it” and “what do I do now?” had been uttered two or three times by each coworker. Later, as they sat in unnaturally quiet cubicles and offices, loading personal photos and coffee mugs into bankers’ boxes, could they hear their own breathing? Could they hear the rhythmic pulsing of their own hearts? Could they finally hear themselves think? If so, did they listen?

Many people today are addicted to constant activity - trained by television, video games and a poorly led school system to resist idle moments or unstructured time. They are socially dependent, requiring the constant stimulation – and approval – of others. Some have been moving 90 miles per hour, 24/7, since elementary school, without a spare moment devoted to quiet self-reflection. Some found their dream jobs on Wall Street, where the action and the pressure never stop, and self-doubt falls into the column labeled “liabilities.”

When these Type A individuals find themselves suddenly alone, are they equipped to reflect on their lives and actions so far? More to the point, are they psychologically prepared to deal with what they see in the mirror?

One of the biggest problems in our schools and workplaces is that we confuse activity with results, so we put a premium on busy work and busy-ness. But human beings need time for reflection, because that is how we develop good judgment, and that is how we learn to live with ourselves.

There’s a story about an American traveling in Africa. He hires a guide to lead him through the jungle to a remote village. In the afternoon the guide stops to set up camp for the night. The American impatiently inquires why they aren’t taking advantage of the remaining daylight to travel farther. 'We have traveled very fast and must allow time for our souls to catch up with our bodies' says the guide.

A little quiet time each day, a little downtime, or even some pure fun dumbtime, gives our souls a chance to catch up. Instead of preparing for the next test or meeting, we should be preparing for a greater test – how to live, how to think, how to be happy.

I sympathize with the workers at Lehman Brothers.  When I left Kinko’s after 30 years of constant activity, the silence was deafening. But I learned to appreciate the quiet. Able to hear myself think, I set about learning to listen. And then I knew what to do…