needle in, needle out

Creativity

is not subject to formulas.

It rejects the checklist

and balks at the thought of the timeline.

Thoughts run wild through the

plane of the brain,

not to be tamed by a

new name.

new game.

new self-help refrain.

This study says delete.

This study says repeat.

This study says prepare.

This study says

This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study. This study.

That study.

Which one.

Keep running.

Ready. Set.

Go. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do. Do.

Get. things. DOn.e

What done?

Keep on run.un.

When do we stop?

Sleep.

Eat.

Repeat.

More time. More tasks. More goals. More lapse.

Win. Win. Win. Win. Who’s win. My win. Your win. We all win.

When we lose ourselves and we sell our souls to the goals

of the CULTure.

In Nicaragua, it’s slow.

When the sun’s up, then it’s time to begin. Stir the rice and simmer the beans. Back and forth on the laundry board. Soak. Scrub. Rinse. Repeat.

There is a rhythm. To life. It moves and it beats with the blood of the earth and the sound of the rain. Spattering.

On the tin roof.

Sow. Work. Reap. Grow.

Pick the mangos and pull the corn.

Gather jocotes and pluck mamon.

Load the cart. Market all day.

Work hard. Still play. Still pray. Still sit.

Still.

In all the rushing and the lifting and the hauling and the plucking

they still respect

the Peopl.e

They GTD.

Not by conquering a list in a day or applying the most recent scientific study. They go with the flow of the life. They work till they stop. Their work is their stop. They look and they love and they pull up a chair.

Here we make boxes of items to be done in a day, we sacrifice those minutes, those precious seconds, of looking at someone’s eyes to say, “Hey.” In the realest of ways.

But if it doesn’t get done, tomorrow will come. It’s a cycle. It’s the nature of the work. It’s the relationship between heaven and earth. They don’t self-help. They other-help. Together today. Together tomorrow.

Stir the rice and simmer the beans. Not easy. Just real. Real and dirty and raw. Guilt is depleted in the way they GTD.

Teach me. I don’t want to sacrifice the “other,” the “we”

for a better me.

Menial tasks. Long tasks. Different tasks.

Needle in. Needle out. Needle in. Needle out.

They teach me to touch. To remember. To breathe.

Is there an app for that?

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