Summertime Sadness

It was a balmy 92 degrees this weekend in Charlotte and my brother and his girlfriend were staying at our house. Everything about it was cozy and sweet--exactly the kind of thing I picture when hosting out-of-town guests: pouring iced coffee in the morning, sitting on the back patio with our dogs, making burgers and guacamole before all of our friends came over for a cookout, taking them to our favorite places for lattes and crepes and gluten-free grilled cheese sandwiches, sprawling out on the couch together under blankets after a long day of entertaining. Ender loves Sean so much so every morning I would wake up to him crying outside of the guest bedroom door, hoping his uncle would either come out and play or let him in to snuggle.

And then Sunday evening arrived and my brother and Jane packed up their stuff and loaded the car as big dark rain clouds rolled in, and I found myself getting so incredibly emotional that they were here and now were leaving. Summer is so exciting sometimes, and even though it's not my favorite season I can feel the magic in it, and the emotional highs and lows that rise and crash like waves on a beach. Long weekends slam into work weeks, and sunny mornings are wiped out by afternoon thunder storms. Summer is so joyful and fun and charged with energy, and for an incredibly sensitive person like myself, it can be exhausting. 

Lately I've been feeling a little burnt out, so I'm trying to look at this summer as a highly creative experiment in being kinder to myself, and allowing the room to get what I need. Working from home often makes me feel like I need to be hustling 24/7, but I've found that these weekends where I don't even pick up my computer have been so good for my soul and my mind, especially when I'm relaxing with people I love. So I'm going to do more of that, and I hope that something beautiful will follow. 

It's almost summer. It's time to slow down.