Summer Sixteen Dreams
I was really inspired by Elizabeth and her post about how she spent her summer at home. It made me feel oddly less alone and was a reminder of how we use art to connect and comfort all at once, often times unintentionally. This is a brief homage to her subject of choice. Carry on.
At the base of my being there is the craving for security, but another root is settled and grown opposite that one and it is one of planner. There are other roots, but those are personality characteristics that will act as the center of what led to me and my Summer Sixteen dreams and beliefs. I like to plan. Often times, those plans go awry, but planning things makes me feel like there is ground in an otherwise lofty headspace. It's connected in part to the security root that has me firmly planted in who I am now. Have you seen 500 Days of Summer? If you have, you might be able to tell where I'm going.
Expectation: relaxation on the sands of Folly or Myrtle Beach. Reality: relaxation underneath my comforter in bed. Expectation: summer nights club hoppin' or watching movies on the ground. Reality: Netflix and chill by my damn self. Expectation: a girls' trip to NOLA. Reality: writing away on my laptop.
To the untrained eye or the jilted perception, those parallels might feel mildly off-balanced, with the reality side making you feel sorry for me that I couldn't quite match up to my expectation. But, as I look back on it, I wouldn't change a single second of it. I've enjoyed my summer at home. I've enjoyed being alone. I've enjoyed taking time out and reflecting. I've enjoyed being unbothered by FOMO or feeling like I had to be doing something in order to keep up with some imaginary pressure that did not exist.
Everything is a matter of perception and mine just shifted and helped me see something beautiful in keeping the summertime super simple, saying "yes" to things I really wanted to do, but "no thanks" to things I would normally feel like I had to say "yes" to just because I was asked. I was real with myself and one with my introversion, made love to me, and as I said became renewed in the process. Liberated.
Most days, I am seated in a makeshift office space I've carved out in my den, sans pants or a bra, a blanket draped over my lap, several glasses of water, hair pinned up, writing and editing, brainstorming and creating. And I am happy.
I let some phone calls go straight to voicemail and return them when my definition of "busy" has ceased to exist. I'm just trying to get my life. Together.
I hear it's a forever process. I am learning.