My friend told me the other day: you think about your own thinking too much. I couldn’t agree with her more. As a writer, primarily nonfiction writer the last few years, I constantly assess and evaluate my thoughts, what’s happening around me, my current happiness level in a given day. I have gotten better in the last year, since turning 30, at turning that constant critic off and embracing the wonder of a moment, but it’s still a struggle. Thankfully, there’s no better time to practice embracing the possibility of a moment than the slow ones that summer brings.
There is almost nothing sweeter than the transition from school semester to summertime. The final grade deadline looms and blocks out all rational thought, until finally, anti-climatically, it’s over. And just like that, I’m on my slow 3 month schedule. Sometimes the mental adjustment to summer is instantaneous (last year was wondrous), but the switch this year has taken its time. Most of my April was a whirlwind (thanks to podcast hosts, Skype dates, and juggling endless projects from four different jobs), that when I suddenly dropped teaching from the mix, I barely had time to celebrate that freedom before my days felt just as busy as before.
Today, now 3 weeks into my summer schedule, I finally feel it. The evening jogs and trips to the store without feeling exhausted, the time I now have to pick up new books, catch up on TV, go to the gym, get a manicure. It’s here: It’s Summer. And though the monotony of routine makes me panicky ( I need to express more gratitude for the freedom of freelance), the steadiness of a primary summer job at the tutoring center allows me to indulge in other freedoms I so desperately need for my peace of mind. I need to let summer do what it does best: let me slow down, breathe, enjoy the adventure, develop meaningful relationships, and grow in ways I would’ve never expected.
So, here’s to those glorious 3 months that I cherish every year. Do your best.