Clap my hands together, push forward, let them part
Is this the way we carve space
Out of thin air
Next year, teach me how to under commit myself
I have one of those cursed personalities
Where I don’t want to do anything, ever
But I can’t stand not saying yes
And doing it the very best
It’s wretched, and disappoints everyone
I read so many books about doing nothing
And the capitalistic, harmful productivity myth
And then I track the books I read obsessively
And disappoint myself by running out of energy
To think after thinking all day
I watched a movie last night
Without working, without distraction
It felt incredibly indulgent
I forgive my mornings for their slower starts
And promise my evenings to piles of tasks
That deserved better
Than me watching D&D shows
While building training decks
I string together words
In sloppy poems
And call it done
Because say what you will about me
But I have never let perfect
Be the enemy of good enough
Next year, may I learn about space
The kind I need to create in my calendar
The kind I need to create in my mind
This year, let me end with some grace
It’s looking like it will be okay
My roots grew so deep
They keep me on my feet
With Love,
Natalie