inefficient

“This is the least efficient way to move across water.”

That’s what Juan, the guy who brought out my rented paddle board, told me. He stood on the edge of the dock and held the board for me as I carefully stepped on, wondering how quickly I’d fall off the thing (I haven’t fallen yet). Then Juan shrugged, "But that’s not why people get these.”

I’d been wanting to try paddle boarding ever since I first saw one during our honeymoon eight years ago, but hadn’t actually done it until a few weeks back. I’d been told they’re not for everyone, to try before I buy. I can understand why. They require balance, strength, and focus. Besides that, they’re really not very fast.

But, after spending my allotted hour on one—including letting the kids ride along for half of the time—I knew it was my thing. We soon purchased one of the inflatable models and I now take it out on the lake every Wednesday morning with my father-in-law (he brings his kayak).

Even though my father-in-law could be doing laps around me if he wanted and there are times when I’ve got to push a little harder to keep up, I love my time out on my board.

I often feel the same about creativity. It’s not the most efficient thing you could be doing with your time. But that’s not why you should do it.

There are endless emails to check, things to clean or fix around the house, errands to run, people to call, and on and on. While any of those things can be done in a creative way, there’s just something special about taking time to be creative for its own sake. Even when doing so requires a balance, strength, and focus of its own.

It’s easy to come away from doing something creative (or even just sitting and thinking creatively) and wonder if maybe you could have, should have been more efficient with your time. And it’s not always easy to put a finger on what you’ve gained by being creative.

Sure, there are ways to be productive and creative, but many times creativity can feel more like a step backwards and you may have nothing to really show for it when you’re done. I mean, what do you have after sitting down to aimlessly play around on an instrument or spacing out while lost in the details of a story you’re inventing?

But it’s those moments of getting lost in a thing that we truly need. They remind us how good life is.

I guarantee I won’t be competing in water sports any time soon, but I always feel better after that time out on the lake. There is something revitalizing about standing up and calmly gliding about, one slow and steady push at a time—lost in the soft sounds of water lapping underneath the board and birds beating their wings against the wakes.

Everything else just melts away, I feel like I’m part of something important. The world makes sense for a brief, glorious moment.

Whether you’ve got a paddle, a pen, or a piano at hand, I hope you take a little time to feel the same and allow yourself to be inefficient. You’ll be glad you did.