Recently, I have been thinking about blog posts that gain a large readership. Posting about art tends to have a select audience that seek specialized information or news. Posts that stir intrigue or argument (e.g. politics or celebrity news) attract wider attention but people also come to a blog seeking advice or help. These posts tap into our aspirations to fix things (e.g. make a better meal, become more organized, live a healthier life).
One aspect of life I would like to fix is my relationship to productivity. No matter how productive I am, I sense that there is more that could be done. To perpetually feel less then fully productive may not be reasonable perspective, but perhaps it is natural. There has to be an impulse which propels us and challenges us. However, there seems to be an irony in thinking that we can become masters of productivity. What is thought of as productive may not be very important and what seems unproductive may have its own unique purpose.
As I was out on a walk, pondering ways I could become a more productive blogger, I came upon an abandoned lawn mower. I could not figure why the wheels were missing, but it reminded me of a car vandalized up on blocks. I began to think about the ways this broken mower could be productive. Though my first thought was of scrap metal, I realized this mechanical decay revealed potential as a subject. Although its color matched the grass, the broken machine offered a counterpoint. Like many of mankind's other pursuits, we cannot hope to keep up with trimming every blade of grass. So, a healthier outlook on productivity may be to realize our best options (usually not grand) and negate, subdue, or ignore that which is most disruptive to our growth. This outlook is useful because road blocks will be put in our way, and sometimes things come apart.