When was the last time you were so absorbed in something where time seemed to have no measure or relevance?
 
I am reminded of the saying by Heraclitus, the Greek philosopher from c.500BCE:
 
“Time is a game played beautifully by children.”
 
Or that of Friedrich Nietzsche, the German philosopher from the nineteenth century:
 
“The struggle of maturity is to recover the seriousness of the child at play.”
 
And for that child at play, time dissolves in meaning until a parent calls or, more often, the rumblings of hunger start to bring the child back wider awareness.
 
I noticed an opportunity that caught my imagination. After checking my diary, I realised that I could travel on from my Friday appointment and take a weekend out for a creative one-day workshop, in a woodworking workshop, on the north Cornwall coast in England.
 
I also realised that over the past few years I had not spent much time in the sea, compared with how much time I used make, to enjoy a salty dip.
 
The workshop was making a wooden body (or belly) board for riding a few waves. One of the pleasures of using a body board is that not too much skill is needed to remain reasonably safe and have an enjoyable time. Far easier than surfing, and much more forgiving if the waves are poor. A good time can be had, even in shallow water too.
 
It had been some years since I last made something in wood and I was certainly looking forward to using my hands, the tools and creating something; hopefully to a reasonable standard and useable.
 
Our instructor had produced rectangular ‘blanks’ and guided us in what we needed to do. So, the ebb and flow of the day was between listening and watching what needed to be done, then returning to our bench to get on with it. The observing eye of the craftsman ensuring that no major mistakes were made.
 
Once we started, it was wonderful to get lost in creating our own board. Time slipped by, only the next instruction, or a need for a stretch, broke concentration – the workshop was so quiet as we all worked away. Conversation picked up over a coffee, but soon again we were working with a saw, a plane or sandpaper; clamping our board to the bench to focus on the next part of the work. I hadn’t thought of food, then a wonderful Cornish pastie arrived – so a chance for conversation before we were all back at our benches.
 
It was a very step-by-step sensory experience. Feeling the wood and the tools; hearing the different noises made by the saw, plane or sandpaper – unaware of the noise from other people; seeing the wood change then needing to inspect the direction of the grain, in the wood; smelling the scent, the sawdust in our noses; tasting the dust from the fine sanding. Focusing on what we were doing to avoid mistakes rather than letting our mind wander.
 
It struck me it was a great example of the term ‘sensation’, the perceiving function identified by Carl Jung and now used in Insights Discovery. The opposite of this is ‘intuition’ which is more about future possibilities, the abstract, less predictability. These two area, sensation and intuition, are where there is potential for tension and differences – yet when both are embraced in a positive way, they can provide the opportunity and potential for better co-creation.
 
This day was more about sensation!
 
The board is made of cedar, the three light strips are poplar. All the wood is sourced locally and sustainably. I have recently oiled my board you see in the picture; it is now a wonderful pale golden colour. I am certainly looking forward to getting it wet when I can experience the sea and enjoy my handiwork.
 
A reminder than taking time out for new experiences is valuable - it benefits our mind by giving it a good stretch.
 
Certainly, that day, there seemed to be little “struggle…to recover the seriousness of the child at play”, for us all.
 
My best wishes,
 
Peter