Feed the Bin & Create
It's thirty-seven degrees outside. Snow covered the ground yesterday and this morning it's wet slush, perfect for composting. I love composting.
We started several years ago with banana peels and coffee grounds. I'm not sure exactly why, but I love to see our compost container slowly fill up throughout the week. It feels productive, which just means that we eat food.
The clear rectangular Rubbermaid cube rests on the counter next to the sink, like a dog it sits there waiting to feed on our scraps. And like an owner there are times I just want to give it a treat. If you compost then you'll know what I mean. Yeah, I want to feet my garden, and maybe that's why I do what I do, but when I see the container half full, sitting, alone, untouched for two days, I want to eat something just so I can feed it.
No joke, most of the time I'm not even hungry, not even a little bit, but if that bin looks sad and hungry, I want to feed it.
I usually start with an orange. He loves orange peels. They smell great, it's refreshing and it feels really healthy and productive in my unnecessary eating event. But that's not enough. It never is. "Thanks for the appetizer, Rich, what's next?" Next? Eggs sound good. It's true, I've caught myself making eggs at 10am in the middle of a project simply because the coffee grounds and the orange peels weren't enough. Did I mention he loves eggshells?
My point is. When we invest in something bigger than ourselves, like our gardens or tutoring or discipleship or picking up trash in the neighborhood on a long walk, something simple and repeatable and healthy, well, this habit fosters movement in other areas. Our creative pursuits benefit from healthy habits in other areas of life.
What are you feeding? Is it healthy? Is it habitual? Is it stirring action and movement and ideas in your primary creative space?