Permission to play - for a day.

Racing through life as a workaholic, takes time, energy and dedication! As a self-professed workaholic I succumb to a restrictive life of work before pleasure. A task oriented individual believing in cliché’s and adages that condemn play time and exalt To-do Lists.  When my head hits the pillow at day’s end, I smile with satisfaction when there are more ‘done’ tick marks on the list then carry-over items. Please don’t misinterpret this to mean I don’t make time for, or enjoy, leisure or self-indulgent activities, because I do. At the allotted time - and on my schedule. I am a successful, accomplished woman with hundreds of business associates and friends. My life is complete, I am happy.

So why am I enrolled in a Travel Journaling class with an assignment of ‘strolling through the market’ for an hour and a half. Seventy unassigned minutes during the prime time of day. Instructed to not buy anything, eat anything, talk on the cell phone or use the time in any productive endeavour. To listen, smell, see and hear. Awaken your sensory nerves and enjoy the morning.

Anxiety quickened my heart beat as the all too familiar palpitations reminded me who is boss of this walking organ. Then the brain kicked in with the usual world be, should be, could be questions. And just in case I wasn’t paying attention a signal was sent to the endocrine system to begin producing copious amounts of sweat and adrenaline. Breaking rule number one I headed to the coffee truck, gazing enviously at the mom and daughter consuming the most delicious smelling bacon and eggs from a paper plate.

I settled with my double double coffee next to two other students, obviously not concerned with breaking the rules this early in the game either. Phrases from ‘The Jolly Green Giant’ drifted on the air as the red headed Harpist strummed her mid sized instrument ‘Early one morning, before the sun was rising’. Look up, Look way up – I chimed in smiling at my cohorts, envisioning the TV show from my childhood.

Playtime had arrived, and today, thanks to a whimsical fancy of enrolling in writing course at the University of British Columbia I was invited out to play.