It’s Good To Waste Some Time Every Day
We rarely give ourselves the gift of time without expectations.
I love the little pockets of time between the moving and the expectations when I allow myself to just be. Paradoxically, it’s in the moments when I can just be rather than do where I better understand what it means to be me.
I can take a breath.
These pockets of being inspire the doing, but so often, we blow right through these in-between moments, either distracting ourselves or feeling guilty for merely existing.
I enjoy waiting — perhaps for an appointment at the city office, or for my number to be called at a sandwich shop, or for the train to arrive. I particularly enjoy sitting on the train during an off hour. I gaze out the window and my eyes track the shifting landscape, the buildings, the colors, the light.
Rather than watch a movie for entertainment, I’d prefer sitting in an open square, on a bench at the park, or on the corner of a busy street watching the world go by. I observe what people are wearing, how we’re interacting, what makes us laugh or scowl; I notice how we hold one another, or how we don’t. I laugh at kids being kids.
It’s rare that we give ourselves the gift of time without expectations.
