you know it's not the same as it was
June arrived like a clock hand ticking from 4:59 to 5pm. The high was 61 degrees in Boston and despite all the rain, summer’s presence still lingered from Memorial Day Weekend, when the temperature peaked at 88. Despite the absence of warm weather, my morale was high as memories of beach days, late sunsets, and windows-down drives satiated me.
June gave way to a future-memory, a bookend of a season. As though I was exhaling from a pent up inhale, I let my breath go. What was once held tightly in was now open, free to invite in a new breath, a new season.
We made it to my favorite time of the year: The Summer Months.
Unfortunately, the fogginess and rain hung around for a few more days, and the grand memories of summer became as muted as the overcast skies. Anxious thoughts drizzled in the back of my mind while I willed myself to resume the sunny disposition I had just a couple of days ago.
In spite of my effort to will the sun break through my clouds, the rain persisted and the following questions hailed: Will this summer live up to the expectations? What will give me structure (and income) once nannying lets out for summer break? Is summer truly as fun as it was in my youth, when carefree days weren’t second-guessed, and rent wasn’t due on the first of the month?
It was on Friday evening when the sun came out of hiding, and almost instantly my mood shifted as the rays poured into the three-pane windows at the nannying house. The connection between weather and mood is almost laughable, though nonetheless real. As the beams lit up the foyer, vibrantly and then fading again and again, I started imagining a more realistic version of summer. A summer filled with work, boredom, and loneliness, but also a summer of weekend adventures, people watching, long walks and nights out. These moments will, like the sunbeams, flicker and wane, but then make their vivid return to brighten the halls up once again.
It’s naive to think that all of our problems, insecurities, and doubts will melt away once Memorial Day Weekend hits. Managing expectations and allowing life to dim is a practice in patience and in creating peace with transience. We become patient in moments of quiet rather than rushing to the next big thing, because we know that even if we desire a life of excitement, there will inevitably be moments of dullness. No one thing is forever, and dullness is always relative to and exists because of the next big thing.
Likewise, to imagine the future as a set of highs is setting ourselves up for disappointment. But to take our plans and accept that they will change in some form whether we like it or not is the greatest lesson of all. Oftentimes our imagination of what the future holds ceases to exist. Transience may bring about a nihilistic view of the world, but it also brings hope. Hope that all states of being are temporary: health, happiness, motivation, and love, but also sickness, sadness, depression, and pain.
To exist in a positive state requires work and constant maintenance, and even then, there can’t always be sunshine. Even the brightest places experience rain.
I hope that you are well and that your summer is off to a great start. If not, remember it’s only temporary. The sun will radiate soon enough.
With love,
Emily