An update on this week's goal to Waste Time:

Honestly, I don't feel friendly toward the term "waste time." But I keep reminding myself to Do It.

Last night while chilling in the bath I realized how nearly impossible it is for me to achieve a restful mind space at home. Still, I chanted to myself like a hypnotist, Waaasssste Tiiimmmmeeee. My mind catches that kind of directional with a lot of confusion.

First, the huh-ified mind floated over to the couch and TV area because that seems the best way to Waste Time. But once given permission, or commanded to waste time, the mind (or is that desire?) meandered over to the work space and laptop area like a curious dog sniffing out something interesting. Like food.

I actually wanted to, well, do something. I didn't know what but being directed to the couch made me want to go in the opposite direction. Hmmm. Child psychology?

So far this week, wasting time has been ... fun. Fulfilling. And fruitful. Including a run with a friend to see the cherry blossoms at the U.W. quad. They're raging right now -- absolute heaven. I've met some new people, did some coaching work, had some good swims, done some writing and been in an almost eerie unstressed state. Which is unsettling for this closet worrier.

Here's something odd I notice -- a bit of a zen freak out let's call it:

As I move through the week I am aware of this old voice far in the background. I can hear it and read its lips and arm waves as it jumps up and down screaming Prepare to be very afraid! We're goin' down...!, while a calmer, wiser voice is turning away like a calm zen-ish parent does with a whiney kid. This trusting wiser voice is in charge and is feeding my normally worrying mind this information: Don't worry about it. Everything's fine. Just keep doing what you're doing.

Holy [swearwords]!

So the stuff I normally worry about: finances, work, WHAT TO DO NEXT WITH MY TIME, are just not present. I haven't felt overwhelmed once. It is only Wednesdsay and none of this may be connected to wasting time. Who knows.

It's all strange and blissful. And something else:

While lying on the warm massage table at the office of my wonderful chiropracter, a cool image came to visit. I saw "wasting time" as an vision of a swimmer moving through water, breast stroking inside a dark green lake. I was breast stroking through these waters without knowing where I was going or even where I was and just seeing wisps of my hair moving back and forth. It felt suspended and relaxing.

Or maybe breast stroking through the cool deep green is just a good visual for sensual time management.

Sensual time management?

Maybe that's a new way to package time wasting. I dunno. I'm going to swim off into the mystic now.