Coming home after swimming, I’m ravenous. I have an hour until my first meeting, time to make breakfast instead of just a quick bowl of yogurt or piece of toast.
One of my longtime skills is knowing exactly what is in the fridge and what stage of freshness (or decomposition!) everything is in. I call myself the CRO (Chief Refrigerator Officer) of the household, and I suppose this comes from making family dinners a couple hundred times a year.
This morning, I heat up my carbon steel skillet and add a little olive oil. Then, chopped mushrooms, kale, a bit of red onion I found floating around in the produce drawer. Some salt, a crumbled hamburger patty from last night’s dinner, and a couple whisked eggs to hold it all together. I dump it onto a plate, add a dollop of labneh, some cubed avocado, a shake of za’atar, and toast half an English muffin.
Whatever happens for the rest of the day, I’ve made something today. If I lived in a buzzy metropolitan area, I might be tempted to get my breakfast delivered, but then I’d be depriving myself of this micro-experience that checks so many boxes:
- Moving my body
- Using up leftovers
- Cramming in more veggies
- Saving money
- Being creative
- Eating something when it’s piping hot
- Feeling proud and satisfied with my creation
I wrote here about doing things the hard way, a message we need to take seriously as we’re beginning to inhabit a world of increased automation and AI slop. I’m intent on continuing to experience the world as a creator, not just a consumer. And this doesn’t mean we have to be professional artists or craftspeople! There are many times a day when we can choose to create. A thoughtfully composed email (please, please do your own writing!) or a small arrangement of stones or feathers on the mantle. Food arranged on a plate instead of eaten from the package. Staking up a houseplant, rearranging some pillows, resisting the impulse to look something up and allowing ourselves to wonder or get it half-right instead.
I watched a documentary about crows last night, whose intelligence rivals chimpanzees. Humans, primates, and crows are the only creatures who know how to make and use tools. Watching the clever crows, it’s sobering to think that their bird brains are a lot more active than ours many days. Yes, they are smaller, but they’re USING THEM for things other than worry or zombie scrolling.
May you have the fortitude and courage to risk making something today or this week. However imperfect it is, however much time it seems to “waste.” Here’s to being human.