That's The Plan
If you don’t have it in you to build an entire trebuchet,
Maybe build a catapult — or save it for another day.
And if that still feels far too much, then start with just a spoon,
A scoop of something comforting — that counts as building, too.
Gremlins like to dazzle with their bright and baffling schemes,
You don’t have to help them — you can let them chase their dreams.
You can choose to sit and watch, enjoy your favourite treat —
A hot pretzel or some ice cream, savoury or sweet.
If the laundry is a mountain and the dishes are a sea,
Just choose one sock to start with. That’s quite enough, you see.
If the shower feels like effort and the bath feels like a chore,
A warm cloth and a quiet sit still count as something more.
If your brain is full of static and your thoughts won’t form a line,
Sit beside the mess a while — that also counts as trying.
Gremlins slide in sideways with their plans that make no sense,
Held together mostly hope… and things they’re calling “evidence.”
If the day has gone all wobbly and your energy has fled,
Dennis shouts “MORE COUNTERWEIGHT!” then drops a fork instead.
Maxx just rolls his eyes a little, presses something in your hand,
Says, “We’re not launching anything — we’re resting. That’s the plan.”
Even gremlins get exhausted, even chaos needs a break,
Even Dennis runs out of ideas (though it takes him quite a lot).
And the trebuchet can wait a bit — it isn’t going anywhere,
It will wobble where you left it — held together… more than not.
So if all you did was sit today, or breathe, or take one bite,
Or hold a spoon and not much else, or simply make it through,
That counts the same as building things that fling across the sky —
It counts because you’re still here. And that alone will do.
And Maxx will still be next to you, not rushing, not away,
And Dennis… well, he’s somewhere there, but quieter today.
And nothing here is finished yet, and nothing here is wrong —
You’re just a gremlin building slow, and that has been the plan all along.
