“She was taking her own sweet time about it.”
Now, I don’t know about you, but I always took the above statement to mean something negative. Yet when I really stop and think about it, sweet time sounds pretty darn great.
So I started to think about this phenomenon of sweet time. First of all, I suppose, it may have no real point or direction. At this holiday time of rush, rush, rush, that has a certain appeal. That said, I set out to find and take my own sweet time.
Other than Thanksgiving dinner hosted by our daughter and son-in-law in Los Angeles, the schedule last week was pretty loose. That made for a good start. Certainly, there must be myriad possibilities. Where would my own “sweet time” take me?
Outside, of course. Beautiful, sunny days beckoned, and I could think of no reason not to respond by putting on my walking shoes, grabbing a bottle of water and just going. Birdsong and crisp morning air greeted me as I stepped out the door each day. No rules. I could go anywhere I chose, just so long as my body would let me. And there was always the “blue bus” if one physically tired too soon.
By Thanksgiving morning the entire central part of town had been traversed and I was contemplating heading up to Top of the World, but thought better of it since I knew I had a few priority level things to do before heading to Los Angeles. The special gift of the day was that I did not have any of the heavy cooking duties and would be able to take my (yes, again) sweet time enjoying my grandsons. I did just that. We read books. We giggled. We simply enjoyed. Sweet, sweet time it was.
The following days drifted along much the same, with time for lots more long walks, reading, correspondence too long delayed, and even just sitting there, watching the flow of the day.
Phones had been turned off, and it seemed I was beginning to get the hang of this thing. Rather than feeling like time wasted, it felt, after all, the most productive of time. Yet, there was no rush to it, no push or pull, no sense of should or must do. Sweet time, as it was turning out, was all about the beauty of simply being. Taking my own sweet time was slow and easy and lasted forever. Negative connotations to any of this just did not exist.
Some days I left home early; some late. I walked the streets at the north end of town and those at Top of the World. Sometimes, sand was beneath my feet; sometimes asphalt; other times the dirt of a trail was the stage amiably strolled. If it was my urge, I sat down and watched the pounding surf as it lashed the shore or the slow flight of a group of pelicans just off the surface of the blue sea.
Absorption in the colors of the season right along with the warmth of the sun and the coolness of the breezes filled the sweet time. Some days there were found small, mostly hidden pathways that might take one to places not seen before and the small thrill of discovery. Constantly, there were reminders of the beauties of our coastal town and how lucky we all are.
As I wandered, new art classes and new art pieces were conjured on the tableaux of my eager mind. This was just too good to believe. The ease was welcome and exhilarating. It occurred to me that not only is time of the essence as we have so often heard, but that time is the essence. At least this seemed true with “sweet time.”
Where does your “sweet time” take you? What does it look like? I would love to hear where some of your sweet times take you and what discoveries are made.
Meanwhile, I will continue my wandering and my sitting as my own sweet time stretches out like a long, soft ribbon on the ocean breeze at the edge of the shore. I’ll be taking my own sweet time about it. Enjoy!
CHERRIL DOTY can be reached at email@example.com or by phone at (714) 745-9973 (if it’s turned off per “sweet time” please leave a message.)