I’m enjoying this blogging thing. It’s different. It makes for good discipline to write everyday. Writing helps me pay attention to the threads that weave their way through my day.
I have no idea how long I can keep up posting every day, but for now, I’ll continue to do just that.
Some of my days are about dogs, chickens, and grandkids. Other days are fully involved working with other people’s issues. And some days, it’s about my own stuff.
One day last week, I noticed that every time I saw my brother’s Facebook entry I would cringe or otherwise have some sort of visceral response. Now, what Michael posts is about his status in something called Mafia Wars.
Each time I read his posts on the news feed, I would feel a sort of disgust. I even went so far as to begin thinking that perhaps I should say something to him about how objectionable they are and what a terrible waste of time to be spending on his game.
Once I began to think that I should make an attempt to correct him on what he was doing, alarm bells went off. I then only had to follow my own fingers pointing back to me. All I had done was identify something in my brother that needed correction in myself. Wasting time.
This wasn’t about him, it was about me!
Well, as I went about my daily chores, I spent the rest of the day thinking about how I waste time. At times it’s escapism. I know that sometimes when there’s something I really don’t want to do, I waste time by doing something other than what really needs to be done. In noticing this about myself I’ve committed to work on that. And in noticing this about myself I’ve let go of any feelings that it’s my brother who has done anything wrong. I hold no judgement on him. I make the correction within myself.
As I went further along my day, I began thinking there’s another side of this. Sometimes, wasting time is really a way to chill out from the daily commotion. We use it as a way of winding ourselves out of the chaotic world we’ve built for ourselves. We numb ourselves from all the over stimulation in our world.
Some of what our parents called wasting time could also be called play which is something we need no matter what our age. In that case, perhaps it would be good to make a choice of how we play rather than just sit down to the latest distraction placed before us. I mean what is play other than a child-like exploration of our world. One in which we release our creativity and imagination. And how refreshing is that.
In my ponderings on the subject of wasting time, I found that what society calls wasting time is anything that is not directly goal oriented. Social mores via parents, instilled in us the belief that we must be productive at all times. Wasting time is a crime and even a sin. But what if our goals are OUR GOALS and the problem is they don’t line up with what society demands. Are they less than? Are they wrong because? Whose choice is this?
Once I spent a day on this inner exploration, what I found is the place where I have a choice. And having a choice and being conscious of that, is what this journey is all about.