Downtime
Before I had children, I didn’t realise how much downtime I had. Life was a celebration of the simple pleasures like reading, writing, doodling, dreaming, cooking, and the odd spot of sloth. Now any downtime between work, bathtime, playtime, and feeding time is spent staring vacantly at the wall mouth half open with some drool dribbling down my chin in a catatonic state of disbelief. Or that’s how it seems. How could I have wasted all that time? But maybe it wasn’t wasted. Creativity can be fostered through work but also demands quiet reflection. A walk through the bush can …