How wasting time led to two c-c-c-commitments. I think.

Do you ever wake up in the morning blushing about the sexy dream you had about a friend?

Me neither.

Anyway, I'm here to report on the Wasting Time project which will lead me to the moderlode theme of the year: Commitment.

I had a productive week. Oh Jeezus, there I go again.

Can we strike that word, productive? It's just the kind of language that messes me up in the first place. I see the Mean Accountant Me standing over the Creative Free Spirit Me with a whip demanding that I do something, anything that resembles productive behavior. Ich.

So, here's another word. Fruitful. I had a fruitful week. Did I waste time? I'm sure I did -- I watched a little TV. However, here's what's different: there is no image of someone chasing her tail. I don't feel like flogging myself for, well, wasting time. And maybe it was just a lucky week where stuff happeend, who knows.

Quick but important aside. Where does the fear of wasting time come from? Here's my personal issue with time: I spent a lot of my 20s and early 30s sitting on a barstool, drunk or hungover. There were other important, meaningful and growing experiences in there too. But when I hung up my partying hat I was so overwhelmed with my Wasted Life and what could have been. And so, that's the foundation of lots of my Time Issues.

(Have you ever noticed how much we Americans seem to value being busy? I read in a book once that Americans value money more than time, so go figure.)

So moving on .... Here's what came out of the week dedicated to Wasting Time:

Two commitments! Yes, I got off the stinkin' fence and put two stakes in the sand. Let me say I don't find living in indecision, even when it feels like you have chocies open to you, a very peaceful way to live. Especially when many life elements are dancing with uncertainty.

Commitment things: One was this Ironman I had signed up for. The other had to do with my coach training program.

The coaching thing was a simple commitment to take two of the five courses in four-day intensive bursts up in Vancouver. I'll miss Fat Salmon (which breaks my heart a little) but I'll get through the program more quickly. And the idea of forward motion makes me happy.

Now for the Ironman. Oh, have my friends heard me belabor the incoming Ironman training season. "I just don't know if I have enough bike love." "I don't know if I really can do all that pavement running." "Blah complain whine blah blah blah."

Even when I signed up for this pretty cool event last August, with a group of lovely friends, I wondered why, exactly I was doing this.

Why, exactly: Well, I like to train/play with my pals during the summer; I like the pilgrimage of training for a big event, as in: What kind of experiences and people will I encounter along the way? And probably most significant in the why category is that training has become a big part of what I do with my summers. What would I do without it? And facing this question was really quite surprising. Am I this unimaginative?

I do often call training "playing" -- and in part it absolutely is, but who am I kidding.

Playing as defined today, might be better described as going to Hermosa Beach and body surfing with my niece and nephew.

Training is spending a sunny Saturday doing a beautiful 70 mile ride with a good friend and then going for an 8 mile run afterwards and then wandering happily comotose (drunk-like even) for the rest of the remaining hours in the day.

Both are great. But I find myself being drawn to the body surfing image more than the bike-run image this year.

So yesterday I bit the bullet, got off the fence and committed to NOT doing the Ironman. I withdrew.

And here's a vision that came in for me as I went through the process (warning: woo-woo-ness incoming):

I checked in with my heart to see how she was feeling about doing the Ironman. I heard a wimper and saw a picture of a heart in a cage. I felt this thing--my heart--as something I've thrown a lot of activities at in order to keep her quiet and distracted (it doesn't totally work, either). Then something occurred to me: Maybe she wants to be listened to; maybe it's time for me to really deeply attend to the desires of my heart. Maybe she has something to show me, somewhere to take me. Maybe maybe maybe. But I was intrigued.

After withdrawing from IM I saw this: A picture of a heart flying out of this cage. Yes, she had little wings and she was off to scout out new and cool territory. I think first she went off to smell the cherry blossoms.

So. It looks like my heart will be my adventure guide for the summer and I'm here to follow and see what happens.

I realize this is a bit of an odd story. Especially when the theme is "wasting time." And commitment. The commitment is pretty obvious though, don't you think? Committing to the heart's desire: "No Ironman!" "No hours of bike training!" "Coaching!" "Having wave-surfing fun!" "Reading at the beach!"

How does wasting time fit in here? Maybe it was giving myself the framework of "wasting time" that allowed a shift to wander into my thinking and processing space. Who really knows. I don't. Do you?

That's my story for the week. Does anyone else have something cool to say about their relationship with Time. Or how they came to make a surprising commitment to themselves?