Summer Reflection
Summer is ending, and, as is often the case for me, I wonder a little what I have done with it. There was a lot of reading, a lot of movies, and a lot of time outside. We went out of town and took some day trips. I can list things we did all day long, but what does it all mean?
Enter the Emily P. Freeman reflection questions I love so much. These reflection prompts were pulled from her last newsletter at the end of June, but they felt even more applicable to me now.
A moment of closure
Summer is always the time for freedom. We sleep later, we stay up later, we eat whatever we want, and we save the worry about how we’re going to fit back in our pants for fall (that last one is all me). My summer freedom also includes tons of reading time, which may be my favorite of all.
Earlier this summer I was reading Two Nights in Lisbon by Chris Pavone, and I came across these lines: “When she was young, Ariel made so many of her choices–personal, professional, romantic and platonic and sartorial–premised on herself as the center of the universe, the way she looked, the clothes she wore, the places she was seen and with whom, her perceived levels of attractiveness, of status, building blocks of a persona that yearned to be public, to be a person who was envied by strangers…Ariel attained all of that, only to discover that she didn’t want it, and to realize that these traits that we admire and envy–youth and beauty and privilege–these are not accomplishments.” “It’s not that she no longer wants to be attractive; she does. But mostly she wants to be attractive to herself…”
In the summer, caring too much about my appearance is another thing from which I free myself. I go days with no makeup and with my hair air-dried and puffing around my face. I live in my favorite pair of cutoffs and my current favorite t-shirts. If an article of clothing does not work with Birkenstocks, it does not go on my body. In fall, the reemergence of dress clothes can feel stifling.
I absolutely care more about what I look like when working rather than not, and I don’t think that’s bad. But looking okay is not the real value I hope to bring to my days. I can value feeling like myself in the more structured uniform of work. I can take the spontaneity of summer living with me in the way I live, even into the fall, if I can shift my mindset off what I have on my body and onto what I have to do. I’ve thought about that more this summer than usual, and Chris Pavone’s character Ariel helped me to define what I want to take with me.
A decision you’re proud of
I am typing this on the couch after lunch while watching Sister Act 2 with my son. My daughter is playing on her phone at the other end of the couch. We have no big plans for the day–reading, maybe some Crazy 8s, a walk after dinner. My kids might work on shooting a movie. My body could stand some yoga (why do I never want to do yoga?). We’re just leaning into this day together, whatever it brings, fueled with big glasses of water and an armful of shared jokes.
In past summers, I have carried a lot of work with me, and often I had work plans whirling in my head even as my kids tried to talk to me. I checked my email too much. But this summer, I’m savoring these slower days as much as I can. I have not accomplished all the house chores I wanted, but I got a few. I have not stuck to the strict cleaning schedule I’ve used in years before, but the house looks fine. I’m enjoying these days with space in them and no rush to fill the space with iced coffee and trips to Target. If I stay available, my kids find reasons to talk to me, to be with me. If I stay on the move, I miss it all.
I’ll admit, my fingers feel itchy this week to be on my work laptop, and I’ve done some of that. The work does have to be completed. But I’m glad that this summer I’ve been able to make the decision not to go back to work too early, and to mostly stick with it. The slower life has brought me real joy, and I wouldn’t trade it.
How have you experienced Divine Light?
My summer habit is to get up, make coffee, and sink onto the couch with my regular routine of apps and not emerge for a long time. But lately, I’ve made a shift, and while my coffee brews, I get out my Bible and my Lectio 365 app. It’s much easier to read, pray, and listen in the quiet of the house at the start of the day. This has not always been the case for me, and may not be forever, but for now, it brings me closeness to God and an awareness of where he’s working in me that starts and hopefully shapes the rest of my day.
But I’m also finding God in my daughter’s voice as she sings, my son’s hugs, a walk at night, my husband’s support, and in prayer when I feel anxious. His beauty everywhere fills my cup and keeps it running over.
