It takes time to build trifles.

It’s funny, really, how my complicated relationship with time has unintentionally been translated into the tattoos on my skin. In Latin, “time waits for no one” was the first tattoo I decided upon, sitting on my ribcage, looking outwards. That was ‘Ellie’ at the age of eighteen - ‘Do everything, and do it with all your might’. That was (and still somewhat remains) a characteristic of mine that I deemed a positive one. Whether it was at work, studies, romance, leisure, or creativity, I said ‘yes’ to pretty much any new adventure. And I got stuck in.

Later, however, I had “it takes time to build castles” printed on my wrist in Gaelic. Precisely where a watch would go. This wasn’t intended as statement to the outside world, but as a personal reminder that things do take time.

Tangible progress takes time. Lasting success takes time. In this day and age, building a presence as a ‘creative’ takes time. Solid editing takes time. Strong family, social, and romantic relationships take time. Finishing a PhD alongside a demanding new full-time job - and a handful of other occurrences - takes time. Self-care and maintaining some measure of mental health take time. And here’s the slapper: there is only so much of it we really have.

For those of us who are perhaps more realistic, this is a given. For the rest of us, authors like Nir Eyal and Greg McKeown are handy.

I denied this for years, however- charmed by the idea that I can get it done. Coffee after coffee, I had been teetering on the edge of burnout for a while, holding myself together with some feeble attempt at relaxation here and there. I’d take one bath, moisturise, and read a book for leisure once in a while. I’d go for a short trip somewhere and completely switch off. I’d upload a picture of it, and get back to… well… anything but self-care. (for more of my thoughts on this, feel free to clickity- click here). This isn’t sustainable in the long run, particularly once the ease of the younger years begins to fade, and especially without sufficient planning and time-management. I’m not much of a cook, but throw in a global pandemic and couple of shitty relationships, and you’ve got yourself a solid recipe for disaster.

I’m not entirely sure where it came from, this desire to constantly be ‘on the go’, to glorify instant gratification. All I know, through trial-and-error, is that it hasn’t worked out for me. I’ve emotionally and cognitively burnt myself out, and I’m only twenty-seven.

And what does one do when they are uncomfortable?

One moves.

One strips it all back, and builds it all back differently. One step at a time.

Like a trifle.

So, here I am, building again. Slowly, this time. My impulsiveness is great, but ought to be balanced with forethought. My perfectionism (see also: ‘borderline obsession’) is a positive tool, but ought to be targeted. The list goes on. With photography (because that’s what we’re here for), I had to detach from the need to create regular solid content on social media. I privatised my instagram and allowed myself to breathe a little bit whilst I focused on my current priorities. Now, I create when I want to create, when I have time to create, without that underlying anxiety to be firing out ideas daily.

Of course, once this rather delicate phase of my life comes to a close, I will have so much more time and mental resources for regular photography, but right now, those resources are required elsewhere.

I guess the whole point of me writing this is that I know I’m not the only one who’s somehow conditioned themselves to thrive off the small high that comes with ticking countless things off a to-do list (whatever those things may be). The sooner we detach from this need and develop an ability to edit our life and our priorities, the sooner we get to fully reap the rewards we are capable of reaping from whatever we do…