The expense of time

My husband, Dane can't imagine taking public transportation downtown to his martial arts class twice a week. The cost would be about the same - $4 parking, figure another dollar or two for gas (it's only five miles or so). Trimet is $2.40 each way. But, it turns out the time is the difference.

He's been super-supportive of my somewhat random decision to stop driving and has been helpful in trying to adhere to my self-imposed rules (only one car in use, not driving out of the way to drop me off somewhere, walking if there's time, not driving if it's not necessary). And he allows me the time to do it. It seems crazy to say he allows me the time, but it's a big difference when there are two kids that need dropping off and picking up and so on.

I've been trying to gently ease him into going along with these things with me. We had a surprise date a couple nights ago (my fabulous friend Felim stopped by around dinner time and offered for us to go out while he put the kids to bed). Dane and I walked to the bar rather than driving, which is what he would typically do. And, really, once you start walking, you realize how ridiculous the habit of driving has become. The bar that's our "local" is only seven blocks away. It seems obscene to drive there, even in the worst weather, but you just get in the habit.

The one thing that's been hard for him to break is the twice a week he goes to his martial arts class downtown. While the cost is about the same, the time is at least a half hour extra each way (45 minutes vs. 15). And, at night, vs. rush hours, if you miss your bus, you're waiting awhile. For him the difference of getting home at 9:30pm vs. 10:15pm is the difference between having time to have a snack and watch a show and relax vs. just getting ready for bed.

But for me, it's the difference of 45 minutes that I get to enjoy vs. 15 minutes I really, honestly, don't enjoy at all. I'm okay with getting home late if I'm enjoying my time getting home. I don't see it as "commuting" time, like I did when I was driving. To me that was time wasted out of my life, taken away, spent doing something I hated (being stuck in traffic). Now, instead, it's like getting gifted with 45 minutes of free time. I can read, write, work, knit. No possible demands during that time (I won't talk on the phone except quick conversations to make plans), no one competing for my time.

Maybe that's part of what's gotten me into making bread lately. I like it specifically because it takes so much time. I like having to work at it for fifteen minutes, and then let it rest for a couple hours. Work it for another five minutes and lest it rest again. Come back and let it have it's final rise. There's something satisfying in it taking so long, as long as 24 hours if you really want it to be the best it can be.

And, really, that's the difference in time isn't it? You can do something quick, but it won't be as good, or you won't enjoy it, and then what's the point? Somehow doing things that are taking me longer time feels like I'm getting more time, instead of losing it. So, for all it's worth, I'll take the time.