Generative

In a spat recently I accused J of not being "generative." Since then, I've been reflecting on that accusation as it applies to my own life.

Am I generative? If so, when and how? What does that even MEAN? I had a mildly productive and enjoyable and relaxing day today (for most of it anyway, more on that later) but would I call doing dishes, picking up dog poo, hooking up the sprinkler (just a leeeetle late getting to that this year) attending a beloved child's birthday party or reheating leftovers GENERATIVE? Not exactly.

Well, except for the leftovers. Because a couple of baked-but-never-eaten sweet potatoes, half an onion and a smidge of broiled salmon sliced into a skillet with a lot of butter (if you got it, we used oil) and topped with a poached egg and maybe a little grated cheese is the kind of food that makes your husband say "what can't we have this for dinner EVERY night?" See, that's generative food - by which I mean creative, life giving, and and productive in a sustainable and ongoing way.

However, the last hour (as I have cussed and yanked my hair toward a better understanding of the labyrinthine mystery that is The Friends List) is the opposite of generative, whatever that would be. Life sucking? I was going to list here all the buttons you have to click to not be able to do the thing you want to do at everyone's favorite social media factory. But that would not be generative either.

I got to see a pretty terrific video tonight, thanks to fb friends, and read a moving letter for which I am grateful, and got some advice about a conundrum that brings me no closer to a solution, but delights me because it engages friends who would otherwise never meet in conversation. What I'm always wondering, though, is whether the sweet highlights are worth the rest of it. Can anything be generative all the time? Should anything? Or is it sometimes ok to rest in fallow, unproductive ground while checking your friend's friend's vacation pictures?