On being happily unproductive
The right to disengage
The sea breeze is in, whisking the hot air with just a hint of cool; outside the sky is blue as blue can be, the endless kind that is unbroken by a single puff of white. We have days and days of heatwave conditions - days that zap energy, leaving non-heat lovers like me drained as a dishrag. When it’s a dry heat, it’s almost bearable, but the humid days, they leave me with nothing. My cat puddles on the floor on days like this, and sometimes I join her, our bodies softening into the floorboards; even with air conditioning, it is too hot to sit for long on the lounges - they feel scratchy and hot on my skin.
In weather like this, I feel lethargic, wanting to do as little as possible; in weather like this, I sometimes (when it goes on for too long) feel trapped inside, waiting for the fringe hours to venture outside for a walk, a potter in the garden, a drive to the beach. Later, I will do just that; I will walk on the beach at sunset, watch the waves change colour, and perhaps, I will swim in the golden ripples and be refreshed by cool salty water on my skin. Perhaps? No, I need to do this to reboot and recharge, so tomorrow, when I return to work, I can be meaningfully productive once more.
Today I am being happily unproductive. I’ve made the bed, put away last night’s dishes, watered the veggies and put a meal on the table for two of our sons, but the rest of the time I’ve pottered around, ignoring to-do lists and enjoying a largely unscheduled day of reading, chatting, working on blackout poetry pieces and … I’m not really sure where the time has gone.
I’ve let myself be away, in order to be more present.I’ve been mindful of my moments.
Beautiful, recharging moments.
My creative space overlooks our back yard. It is an empty nest reclaimed and when I look out the window I see life - the wind showing off, the trees swaying, the vegetable beds thriving and surviving, the birds diving into the bird baths. In my creative space there are two desks; a digital one which faces the window and holds my laptop and printer; and an analogue one which is for art and sewing and creating, no phones allowed. I have sat at this second desk for hours this weekend, writing letters for fellow Substack writers and creating blackout poetry that I hope brings as much joy to the recipients as the act of creating has given me.
Time has passed with no sense of it passing; each moment has had my full attention. 
And, I have let go of worrying about the end result and focused on the process - choosing the words that speak to me, highlighting them, and creating art around them. Finding a way for art and words to intersect, for someone else’s original words to inspire something new. It’s like a conversation, a dialogue between what was before and what is now. And sometimes, when I let go and create this way, the new combination of words reveal a new perspective, an insight, a message.
Like this … which reminds me of climate change and war and the world’s current political stage. All of them, all at once.
An angel
gave a cry;
all fighting and holiness,
all fighting and beauty.
Life is unexpected,
incongruous.
It is a little late for reticence.I look at the pile of letters on my desk. Each one has been sealed with wax - a rose seal my husband bought me years ago. Tomorrow I will take the letters to the post office and release them to San Francisco, Finland, the UK, Poland and The Netherlands. I will send these envelopes of joy with a happy heart and a lighter mind, knowing that these moments of mindfulness, these gifts of time and encouragement, are as much a gift to me and my Creative Soul.
I wondered what to write about today. My body and mind have felt too exhausted by the heat and meetings and lists and appointments to offer anything of value or meaning … and so I had decided not to write a post at all. I read these words by
and nodded - I too feel that pressure. Almost every week. Sometimes it freezes the words inside me.“With every new week the pressure to write thought-provoking, heart-warming, impressionable texts, had grown in me, almost to the point that I felt I couldn’t write at all. Therefore, I needed to remind myself that writing about small moments is an acceptable writing. More than acceptable. It’s beautiful writing in itself.” - Terje Äkke, “Why to write about small moments”
And yet, here I am. Allowing myself time to be away has, in turn, allowed words to flow. To thaw into new growth. And tomorrow I will be able to move forward into a busy week, rejuvenated simply because I have remembered my 2025 promise to myself: More Slow, Less Busy.
The sun is lower now, the heat losing its sting. It is time for coffee, and once the watering is done, time for a walk and a swim in the fading hours of a Sunday. But look here - here is a final moment from my week I want to share. A precious moment in and with nature - the photo is from a photographic series on my blog from around 2015 (I’m thinking of sharing these as a separate post).
May your week be filled with mindful, wonderful everyday moments.
I am at work; I walk outside for a lunch break, even though it’s over 40°C and I don’t want to be in this heavy, relentless heat. The warm breeze stirs the eucalypts into a halfhearted dance; a ladybird climbs onto my hand and walks up and down, up and down. And I remember another moment with ladybirds playing on sunflowers in my summer garden. I think that if I’d stayed in the air conditioning, had my lunch inside, I wouldn’t have had this moment with a ladybird to break up my day. The breeze is picking up now and it’s time to go inside. I take a breath of the fresh air with me.
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How wonderful that we are here to remind each other to take off pressures and be as we are. I like the “happily unproductive” concept. I’ll keep it next to “unapologetically happy.”
I could just read your 'thoughts' in words all day, everyday.
So thought provoking, I'm taking a leaf out of your well thumbed book Monique, I've also subscribed to "More Slow - Less Busy" and it's very nourishing for both the heart and soul - I'm fully onboard - th💕nk you