Picture a man carrying a 13-foot long stand-up paddle board over his head through a crosswalk at a busy intersection. For the sake of the imagery, picture him as a small man in stature, but in fairness you should also know he’s totally ripped (as we said back in the day).
Stefan mentioned this morning after masters swim practice that he just got a new stand-up paddle board. He lives near the Willamette and described his walk to get to the river. He seemed a little embarrassed about what he must look like to passing cars.
I said, “You know, every single person in their car at that intersection thinks your life is more awesome than theirs.”
Never mind that he is a busy student and training for an emotionally challenging career in a helping profession. Never mind that he may or may not make it out on the water all that often. The fact of seeing someone embarked on something so gloriously recreational when I’m commuting inspires me.
You might think it provokes envy. It does.
But, it also reminds me of the freedom I enjoy to occasionally be that person celebrating our city and my life during the culturally prescribed business hours.
My friend Dave once told me about an encounter with a masters swimmer in the Bay Area many years ago. Dave was a teacher and so he attended the 5:00am practices before school. One day when school was on holiday he came to the lunchtime masters practice the team offered.
He met a man who frequented the midday swims—I like to picture the guy wearing a Speedo while pontificating at poolside with a cigar clenched in his teeth. He told Dave something like: “The 5:00am swim is for the working man. The noon swim is for the entrepreneur.”
I’m not an entrepreneur. But, while I sometimes work days, nights, weekends, and occasionally several consecutive weeks non-stop, I also find myself with the opportunity in the off-season to go for a run mid-morning, lift weights at 3:30, or take my son to OMSI after breakfast on a relaxed Friday morning.
I try to remember this in mid-February on my 39th straight day in the office or on the road with the team. A cyclical schedule and utterly non-standard job create variety. I like the unpredictable and the changing routines. I like that the busy times are filled with energy and quality time working with young adults doing amazing things. I also appreciate when the quiet times allow me to rejuvenate, to write, and to prepare for the inspiring and energetic days ahead.
One of my coworkers is a gardener in her home life. I believe her guiltiest pleasure is plant sales at the various nurseries and home improvement stores throughout town. If you could only see the twinkle in her eye! One could subscribe to worse guilty pleasures.
I don’t garden. Worse, I am presently on the losing end of a protracted battle with my weeds and lawn—labels that might as well be interchangeable right now for they are one and the same.
I don’t want to be Stefan walking across the busy street with my paddle board lofted high over my head. But, I like picturing him living that small dream. I hope the commuters watching him walk past have their own way of immersing themselves in the city and of reveling in small moments for recreation and refueling.
You’ve gotta take a little time here and there.
When you take it I hope you can be wholly present to make the most of it.
And when we are not wrapped up in some kind of recreation I hope we can all remember these moments and know that we’re not living separate lives of work and play, but weaving every part together into days and lives we can be proud of, ones that let us rest easy and sleep well.