Summertime In My Mind

Life is slow this summer. Slow and lazy. I'm not getting anything accomplished and, so far, it only bothers me in my head. I keep thinking it's going to bother wherever it's supposed to in order to spur motivation, but not yet.

I'm still working on learning how to practice mindful meditation. It would be great if my mind would shut up for more than a second. And, the few times that it does stop, something outside stirs up memories of summer days of my childhood and then I'm off on a trip down memory lane.

During the summer, a trip down memory lane takes me to long, lazy, fun days spent outside playing with my cousins and some neighborhood kids. Whether we were just running around like wild, crazy things or putting on plays in the garage of someone down the street or laughing at the teen age girls being silly over boys, we had fun. I don't recall us noticing the summer time heat. But that was because we were so busy enjoying every second of every day.

My favorite thing to do at lunch was eat at my cousins' house. There were four of them and, until I was 12, only one of me so, going to their house was pretty awesome. But lunchtimes over there were there best because they had KOOL AID! WHAT?! It was so great! (Of course, that was before we were told that white sugar is bad for us. And before we ingested so much white sugar in our daily diets that it led to the discover of its killer ability).

I spent quality time with my grandparents learning how to bake, peel apples without breaking the peel so that it spiraled down until there was none left to cut off, put salt on a slice of water melon and spit seeds, take afternoon naps on the porch... To appreciate time- taking time to do things right, to see things, to understand, to teach, to learn, to make real, personal connections and to just be.

We didn't have air conditioning way back then- you know, in the old days. So I had a window fan in my upstairs bedroom window. I have one in my room now too. Not because I don't have air conditioning, because I do. But because the sound still lulls me to sleep and often takes me back to that wonderful bedroom in the house my dad grew up in.

My dad's mother, GrandMoore, was the librarian in the town where I grew up. There were many days spent at the library with her. Sometimes I got to help make bulletin boards and shelve books but, mostly, I spent hours lost in book upon book upon book! How I loved to read! Something I still enjoy today.

That's the house of my childhood and of my dad's childhood. See the part that juts out on the right side? When my dad was growing up, that was his dad's dentist office. When I was growing up there, it had been converted into a two bedroom apartment with a bathroom, living room and kitchen for GrandMoore. 

It seemed that an afternoon thunderstorm paid us a visit every single day during the summer. They only lasted about thirty minutes but they were amazing! With no air conditioning, all the windows were left open. I knew a storm was coming when the sheers in my parent's bedroom window would begin to flow, slowly into the room. As the storm got closer and the winds built in intensity, the sheers would billow into the room and I loved lying on their bed beside the windows watching those sheers billow up and over my head and back down again. The feel and smell of the air became cooler and thunder rumbled in the distance. And you could smell the rain long before it began to fall.

As the sun went down and darkness begin to change the shape of daytime objects into curiosities and scary things that made you close your eyes and peek through slit eyelids just to make sure it was ok, we chased lightening bugs. We put them in jars with holes poked in the lids so they wouldn't die. I always let mine go quickly though. I didn't want to be responsible for killing something that brought so much simplistic joy to our lives.

And isn't that where joy lies? In the simple things? Perhaps that's why, when the cicadas begin serenading me on these summer evenings and the sea breeze blows a hint of the last remaining coolness across my skin, that my mind wanders back to that simple time of pure joy that I mindfully visit with fondness, and a tear of nostalgia, because they seem to have passed so very quickly, those times and the simplicity of summer.

Are y'all enjoying a lazy summer?