The Endless Possibilities of Summer

Are we having fun yet?

Welcome to Pocketful of Prose. Happy first week of summer! Thanks for being here. If you like what you read, please click the heart at the bottom of today’s pocket or share it with a friend. I’m recording outside this week which will probably make it sound a little funny with the wind and all. We have been warned that the winds will kick up today. I am hoping our trampoline will stay in one place and the bags of soil we have weighing it down will do the trick. For now, though, it is lovely out, and I’m enjoying sitting in my garden, noticing how it’s filling out in different places, watching the bees feed on the poppies and making new friends (see pic at the end of the post). Plus, this week’s pocket is about letting go of perfection, so without further ado…

I had a moment last week where I was sitting on my balcony watching the starlings feast on the cherries. It is pretty fun to watch them wrangle the cherries and nibble away and also a little sad as ultimately most of the cherry falls to the ground. I suppose it’s a good reminder to feast on your life and to not fret over making a mess. In reality, though, those birds are working really hard. Many of them are feeding their young, and their little ones eat a lot. They eat every 20 minutes. No wonder their parents aren’t concerned with the mess. I remember when I was breast feeding my babies in the first few weeks after they were born. My sole responsibility was to keep them alive. I had no time to do anything else. I certainly wasn’t worried about a messy kitchen.

The birds are working hard, but I am not. I am a teacher, and I am a few days into my summer vacation. And I have a lot more time on my hands, time to watch the starlings at work, time to have a cup of tea, time to read The Middlestein’s, this week’s escape book.  Summer is so delicious, and I am drunk with it all.

I am joyful, optimistic, whimsical, and I am greeting the blank canvas of summer like a welcome guest. I am looking a bit like this.

Photo by MI PHAM on Unsplash

I soak in the delicious possibilities of what summer and I can do together, the books we can read, the podcasts we can listen to, the herbs we can harvest, the muffins we can make, the projects we can finish, the projects we can start. I am ablaze with possibility.

But on Monday morning, the first full week of summer vacation, I notice a shift in my emotions. My cup of joy has spilled into overwhelm. I stare at the blank canvas of summer, and I am lost in a world of white. I am looking a little more like this.

Photo by Arwan Sutanto on Unsplash

Possibility should come with a pressure valve.

When I was in middle school, I went to tennis camp. If you are thinking I was pretty cool, you are right. It was a one week sleep away camp that I attended with my best friend. Throughout the week, Joel, the middle-aged camp owner, kept telling us that we were going to be “in the fun.” It was so dorky and ridiculous, this notion that you could force people to have fun. But because the phrase was so awkward, it was hilarious, and we quickly adopted it to keep in our back pocket for rainy days.  

I was not going to let that blank canvas get the better of me. Summer would see that I knew how to be in the fun. My kids would see that I knew how to be in the fun. So, I did what any sane mother would do in this situation. I set about kicking summer’s ass. I created goals for myself that I would accomplish through rituals and diligence, and I created goals for my children, so they could do the same. They would learn by my steadfast example or by me repeating myself fifteen times before breakfast. My determination to master summer had morphed me into Ben Stiller from The Royal Tenenbaums. All I needed was a track suit and a whistle. We were going to be in the fun this summer, even if it made us all miserable.

My new leash on summer was off to a good start. Here’s a look at the first morning.

Household chores. Check.

A trip to the local library. Check.

A meeting with my writing group. Check.

A short hike with Anna and Cato. Hold up a sec.

I want to move quickly. Thus, I need Cato to move quickly. I have a lot of canvas to cover, after all, but Cato is having none of it. She is panting, and it is clear that my plans mean nothing to her.

We have to slow down, or she might die.

I relax my grip on her leash, and I let go of some of the things I have planned.

Anna and I talk while we let Cato catch her breath. And I use the pause to catch up to my feelings. “I’m feeling a little overwhelmed,” I say.

Anna says that she too feels overwhelmed.

I explain that my overwhelm mostly comes from wanting everyone to make the most of their summer.

She explains that her overwhelm mostly comes from me.

“Do you think you could try taking some of the pressure off of summer?” Anna asks me gently.

Photo by Crystal Kwok on Unsplash

I think of tennis camp and Joel and how silly it all seemed, so silly you just had to laugh.

What resonates with you this summer? Are you in the fun or over it?

If you build it, they will come. One of my garden friends.