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Earlier this year, I bought a compost bin.
I know. The glamour.
It’s awesome. It can take anything but bones: a 'hot composter'.
Dontcha?
You do. I can tell.
Each day since, I’ve fed it the waste from our kitchen.
I stir it with a massive stick.
(My neighbours can’t quite see what’s going on behind the fence - I make sure to chant an incantation so they think it’s a cauldron and I’m some kind of freelance warlock).
🧙♂️
Months later, the magic’s happened.
It’s turned into amazing soil full of all the best nutrients to grow something new.
Thrilling, right? I’d like to start podcasting about garden waste but I’m not sure I’m best placed to do it. Guess that’s just composter syndrome.
😬
That process does amaze me though.
All those things you think are bad, all those thoughts you let go, the creations that don’t work out, the lines that get deleted, the pitches that go cold... none of it’s a waste in the long run.
Embrace the freelance peelings.
Stir ‘em up.
You might not think so now, but give it time - that 'waste' is forming rich ground for good stuff to take root and flourish.
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