“I have done nothing all summer but wait for myself to be myself again.”
Georgia O’Keefe
It wasn’t my intention to step away from this space for most of the summer, but as time went by, more and more, it seemed the right thing for me. Twice I opened my MacBook, thinking I’d tap out a post, but I put technology aside and picked up a paintbrush instead. That’s largely what I did all summer. Paint.
I did other things too, of course. Tended my garden. Read good books. Enjoyed a whirlwind trip to British Columbia to visit family and friends. Thought about John O’Donohue’s words that I embraced as a guide at the beginning of the year: Wisdom is the art of living in rhythm with your soul, your life, and the divine. Released some things that were no longer in rhythm and embraced others that were.
And, almost every day, I sat at my desk splashing watercolour paint on 100% cotton paper, using an assortment of markers to embellish whatever came out. Watercolour painting was my summertime sanctuary.
Something shifted in me when I stopped focusing on the result and leaned into the process itself. One day, feeling a deep and personal sense of peace, I realized that my daily practice of sitting in silence, creating something for the sheer pleasure of doing so, was, in part, the reason for it.
“Art is to console those who are broken by life.”
Vincent Van Gogh
That, and the limits I put on news and social media consumption. I seriously contemplated stepping away from the two social media platforms I’m on, but for now and for different reasons, I’m staying. (Lately, I’ve mostly popped in to share photos of my garden because . . . well . . . one must do so in the summer, mustn’t one?)
And silence. I’ve felt drawn to silence more than usual—even my go-to classical music playlists have seemed like too much, so my home has been a quiet, creative sanctuary this summer.
One day, a few months ago, when discussing the woes of the world with my daughter, I said I felt like opting out. Not opting out opting out, but stepping away from the cacophony of life and the groans of a world in transition. In a sense, I suppose that’s what I did this summer. Except I didn’t really opt out. Instead, I opted in to something different. Something that gave me peace instead of anxiety.
About thirty years ago, I picked up a piece of wisdom in a stress management class my doctor sent me to, which I’ve carried with me all these years. The key to stress management is learning to relax so you can build your physical and emotional reserves and be ready to meet the next challenge. Nothing has changed in my world or the world as a whole since the end of June when I opted out. The burdens I carried then still weigh heavily on my shoulders. There are challenges ahead I dare not imagine. Opting out this summer helped me carry what is mine and, equally important, identify the things that aren’t. There are still challenges ahead that I dare not imagine. I pray the respite this summer has replenished my reserves for whatever comes next.
Anyway, I’m back. I stepped out to the garden this morning to pick another batch of beans for the freezer and felt a distinct chill in the air. The season is on the cusp of changing. (Oh, and the mosquitoes finally showed up. Joke’s on you, you buggers, summer is waning and there’s not much time left for you to annoy us.)
I’d love to hear how you spent your summer and what practices you’re embracing to replenish your reserves.