Consuming and Contributing, the Balancing Act of May
There is a third girl, though. She’s neither consuming nor contributing...
I read somewhere, which means I saw something on Instagram, that said - I’m constantly at odds between the decision to consume this world or contribute to it. Or something to that effect.
Who do I want to be today? Is there enough time for me to breathe in my garden and flick butterflies off my book? It could be me, waking up without alarms, leisurely putting the dishes away to the beat of a podcast, finding the time to slosh wine with friends and pick at aged cheese and fermented carrots. I could lay loose and unrestricted against soft cotton, slack-jawed, in the midst of discovery.
It’s the me that’s constantly at odds with the girl who wants to stay up to plot. The girl that wants deep cleans, drying canvases, and fertilized gardens. When I’m her, I’m wiping swollen eyes before the sun even makes its first draw. I’m building and testing, amending and threading a needle into the maze of a sewing machine.
There is a third girl, though. She’s neither consuming nor contributing. A girl I find usually in the throes of May. Running from one requirement to the other, saying yes and erasing penciled schedules to fit the Tetris of requests. I’m frantically calculating the time it will take to brush my teeth before I can get in the car to make it to the next thing. My seams are buckling under the weight of being everyone all at once.
This is all just to say, if you’re feeling the same as most of us do in the month of May, you’re not alone. One day, we’ll sit and consume a sunset. And the next, we’ll force paint out of its aluminum. We’ll dig and weed under a beating sun, then lick chocolate cake off a cold fork. You can do this. Even if you drop a few balls in the process, we’ll make it to June.
Until then, carve out some space for yourself. Wake up a little earlier so you can read a book. Stay up a little later to develop your famous cookie dough. If you’re being pushed, push back a little harder. I know that’s what I’m trying to do. We never know what the next month holds, so I’ll squeeze it until it’s dry, until my hands fall from weakness, until there’s nothing left but to consume and contribute.
