I see everyone around me
Working day and night,
Cooking and cleaning or catching up
On sleep missed the last five nights.
I see myself falling into this trap
This masochistic need to constantly work,
To feel guilty if I’m not “productive”
When I’m only enjoying the comforts I’ve earned.
In school, it was easy—
Homework was only a hurdle
To cross before play.
It was easy in college too—
When your friends and new experiences
Were as important as your essay.
But somewhere along the adulting
We’ve lost the clarity we had as kids;
We’ve forgotten the freedom that
Living just for ourselves gives.
I heard someone say once
That they found theatre not a distraction but an escape
Because “a distraction is momentary.
An escape helps you heal.”
But art and dance and sports and romance,
A picnic with your family, or a drink with friends,
When time slows, gone are your woes,
Your heart is full as it can be—
Isn’t this where happiness blooms?
Isn’t this what life is about?
Why must this be only an escape
From the monotone we’ve accepted as fate?
Why must we forgo this delight
For endless chores and strife?
Why must responsibility constrain and pressure
Rather than be a stepping stone to pleasure?
So I’ve decided, to hell with this
Mad impulse to “be productive”!
I’ll read fifty books this year
And watch all the shows on my list
I’ll get to that novel I’ve put on hold
And write poetry even if it’s shit
I’ll dance as much as I can
Even if I don’t get paid for it
I’ll go rock climbing with my friends
And on that girls trip
I’ll make new memories, not
Grasp nostalgically at old wisps.
When I need to do the dishes,
I’ll split with my mum and chat as we clean
When I need to run errands,
I’ll do it with a friend, with me or on my screen
When I need to cook dinner,
I’ll play a little music and dance through the meal
And when I need to do the laundry,
I’ll do it with myself, spend some time with me.
I’ll work enough to do this comfortably
Because I do love my work
But I won’t let it stop me
From living life for all it’s worth.
For art, beauty and romance
Are not an escape but life itself
And I won’t let this adulting frenzy
Get me stuck on the means, never to reach the end.