I’m not always productive

I’ll let you in on a little secret:

I’m not always productive.

There are days when I do little more than consume books and coffee pretty much in equal quantities. And they’re not the type of books designed to expand my consciousness, either. More like brain candy.

Then there are nights when I follow rabbit trails all over the internet, jumping from topic to topic with a speed that would make the Roadrunner envious.

And there are afternoons that find me in the middle of a pile of yarn, starting yet another crafting project.

I don’t worry too much about these times, because bouts of un-productivity are not bad. In fact, I think they are necessary to my sanity. After all, I am a human being, not a human doing, and quite frankly, I am not my to-do list.

I have found that when I want to descend into these pits of utter blob-ulation, it’s because somewhere inside of me, something is telling me I need a break. So I honor that need and allow myself the pleasure of doing utterly pointless things.

And you know what? I’m always the better for it.