Once upon a time I used to keep chickens. They had a large run at the far end of the garden, backing on to woodland. Every day after I had prepared our meal, I would take them any titbits I could find. They soon got used to the ritual and would come rushing across their small paddock to see what delights were in store.
The rooster would be there first. He would stop and call his ladies over before eating anything. Then the hens would arrive. The mother hens would stop and call their chicks over. They all had their share, and life was good.
Photo from Flickr/David Turner
I would always lean over the fence and watch this scene, and sometimes time would drift by without my noticing. I could quite easily while away long moments enjoying the company of my chickens, and I always came away feeling relaxed and happy.
So it couldn't be called a waste of time, could it?
You must have been warned against letting the golden hours slip by. Yes, but some of them are golden only because we let them slip. ~ Sir James Barrie.
Now, I have to agree, there are some, even many, occasions when wasting time doesn't have that desired effect. High up on my list are times like waiting in for a delivery that doesn't show up, or sitting at the end of a phone while a recording repeats, ad nauseam, "All our agents are busy, so please hold the line".
Idleness, like kisses, to be sweet must be stolen. ~ Jerome K. Jerome
We all need our stolen moments for a little regeneration, recharging, to allow ourselves to be ready to face the world again.