Yesterday I hit the wall a bit. I had a lovely start to the day, got a few chores done, walked to meet a friend for brunch... and then, I just stopped. I didn't plan on stopping - I had a long list of things I could or should do - but, without my deciding to stop, inertia took over.
Welcome, phase two of summer.
Last year was tough at school. I can't quite put my finger on the why: it wasn't traumatic and insane like the quarantine year, or a huge adjustment like hybrid teaching (let's never do that again), or even an adjustment back to "regular" teaching. In some ways, it was a normal year... but it didn't feel normal. I'm still sorting out out, but I saw that my colleagues struggled more than usual, as did I; I saw that the kids were falling apart. And from about March onward, I was just holding on by my fingernails.
The first phase of summer is a joyous gasp - I made it! Delight rises up past the exhaustion, and the world feels hopeful again. There is reconnecting with friends, getting the house back in order, spending time outdoors, making fresh salads for lunch and delighting in the fact that I have the time to do so. There's paddle boarding, long walks and short runs, picnics. There's more gardening in a week than I did in the past ten months.
And now... the second phase, which I didn't plan, but has arrived right on time. Slowing down. Staring into space. Sleeping in a bit. (At 53, I find that 8am feels the way 2pm used to - insanely decadent and surprising and a bit disorienting.) Realizing that summer won't last forever, and feeling it slip away a bit. Starting to ponder what I need to do, what I long to do. It's tinged, strangely, with a bit of boredom and restlessness: my friends aren't available to play with me all the time, and my daughter is doing 20 year old things, and I feel a bit at loose ends. It's not horrible, but it's not that great, either. There is no exhilaration, there's more deflation.
But I wonder if this is where the good stuff starts? If this is where I can get real with myself, and now that I've rested a bit and burned off the frenetic energy of surviving what came before, if I can see if I can turn that boredom into some new creative energy? If instead of running to the sea, I can sit with my thoughts long enough to gently reshape some parts of my life? I think that phase two is about getting real with myself, taking on some chores - housework, yardwork, soul work, financial work - and making some real progress.
I'm working on the book. I get so scared, but I went back and re-read the first chapter of what I'd written, and I got excited. There's something there. And if I can only work past my fear, I will get there.
Phase two gets real. Let's hope that I can use it wisely, and start settling in to the real me - messy and hopeful, still yet productive.
And there's still time for summer. Today is the outdoor theater festival and I can't wait to sit in the sun and listen to Shakespeare. I'm doing this one solo - it's not easy finding Shakespeare friends! - but I don't mind. It's time to go and be myself.
But first... it's time to write. Phase two.
No comments:
Post a Comment