The skies cleared just in time
My annual summer reflection on the solstice was delayed this year. Last weekend, Ben and I were in Montana, and the week after had been a jumbled mess of crazy hours, clouds a couple nights, and other priorities. But finally, on the last day of June, I'm knocking out this post.
I looked at my summer post from 10 years ago, and I talk about how quickly time seemed to be going. Wow, I had no idea how fast it was going to get. We are five years from having both boys in college. Ten years ago, Michael was starting kindergarten. Everything in between has been a blur.
I'm not going to try to strategize on how to make time slow down for these next few years. Ultimately, it's a little bit futile. I'm not going to define as these years as coming to a conclusion (even though that is what's ahead) as a continuation of what I've done -- what we've done -- all these years. One day leads to the next, to the next, to the next, until that last one. It might feel super quick, and it might feel like forever. It might be great some days, and it might be heart-wrenching on others. The sun will come up and the sun will set, just as it did 10 years ago, just as it is tonight. The journey has been incredible, and it's been both purposeful and deliciously unpredictable simultaneously.
With this in mind, my goal for the year is to make a little more time for the boys. I think I'm doing an OK job of that but I do want to savor these next five years.
Also, no relapses. If I could identify one thing I'm a little annoyed about since last summer, is that I make progress on something and fall back. I lost 12 pounds in March but regressed. I started writing again on a few projects but slacked off. I made progress on the house, with work, and even finding more time to play games with Ben and hang out with Michael, but it all began to wither. For this last summer of the decade to the next solstice, I'm striving for no retreats, no surrenders (yes, borrowed that from Bruce Springsteen ...). No relapses sets me up nicely for whatever the coming years bring.
Today was cloudy since this morning. Although it brought some welcome relief after a few hot days, I was pessimistic I'd be able to write this tonight. Then, about an hour ago, the skies cleared up. I'm looking at a gorgeous sunset that's just about to dip below Antelope Island from my vantage point on the hillside at Donner Park. Elephants from the zoo below were being noisy. I just put on "Sister Golden Hair" to time it with the sunset.
Happy Summer 2019, Joe. Remember the joy of every day.
There goes the sun. It will be back ...
I looked at my summer post from 10 years ago, and I talk about how quickly time seemed to be going. Wow, I had no idea how fast it was going to get. We are five years from having both boys in college. Ten years ago, Michael was starting kindergarten. Everything in between has been a blur.
I'm not going to try to strategize on how to make time slow down for these next few years. Ultimately, it's a little bit futile. I'm not going to define as these years as coming to a conclusion (even though that is what's ahead) as a continuation of what I've done -- what we've done -- all these years. One day leads to the next, to the next, to the next, until that last one. It might feel super quick, and it might feel like forever. It might be great some days, and it might be heart-wrenching on others. The sun will come up and the sun will set, just as it did 10 years ago, just as it is tonight. The journey has been incredible, and it's been both purposeful and deliciously unpredictable simultaneously.
With this in mind, my goal for the year is to make a little more time for the boys. I think I'm doing an OK job of that but I do want to savor these next five years.
Also, no relapses. If I could identify one thing I'm a little annoyed about since last summer, is that I make progress on something and fall back. I lost 12 pounds in March but regressed. I started writing again on a few projects but slacked off. I made progress on the house, with work, and even finding more time to play games with Ben and hang out with Michael, but it all began to wither. For this last summer of the decade to the next solstice, I'm striving for no retreats, no surrenders (yes, borrowed that from Bruce Springsteen ...). No relapses sets me up nicely for whatever the coming years bring.
Today was cloudy since this morning. Although it brought some welcome relief after a few hot days, I was pessimistic I'd be able to write this tonight. Then, about an hour ago, the skies cleared up. I'm looking at a gorgeous sunset that's just about to dip below Antelope Island from my vantage point on the hillside at Donner Park. Elephants from the zoo below were being noisy. I just put on "Sister Golden Hair" to time it with the sunset.
Happy Summer 2019, Joe. Remember the joy of every day.
There goes the sun. It will be back ...
Comments