every summer, i pretend i’m someone else (this spring, i don’t want to start over anymore)

we’re halfway through April, and i already feel dysphoric without the hot sun beating down on my skin. over the last few summers, it’s become a little ritual of mine to lay out in my garden (which is surreal, overwhelmingly green, and feels like a summary of earth’s beauty) and reflect.
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it usually starts when i go on my afternoon walk, and i notice the wind is no longer sharp and chilling, but has instead become a source of relief from the sudden heat. well, it's no secret that Iowa weather is amazingly unpredictable, and this year, that moment came early. it gave me a taste of the unmatched feeling summertime delivers every year without fail.

the warm day didn’t last, but i was sipping blonde espresso and decided to put it on ice anyway. hot homemade lattes have been my main source of comfort for six months, but in the premature spirit of the season change, i’m feeling ready for something new.

every summer, when i watch the sun set and disappear beneath my tall oak fence, the light scatters across my hands - which are usually buried in sharp blades of grass, with a ladybug or two exploring the freckles on my fingers. and then, i see the stars. they slowly appear in the darkness, each with a timeless grand entrance that is both quiet and striking. admittedly, it makes me feel kind of small.

this world is so, so big. bigger than i could ever possibly dream of articulating. it is big not only in size but in rich history, unmatched misery, unexplainable beauty, and infinite mystery. it is big when i stare into the void blooming over my oak fence and it is still big when i bump into a stranger at my favorite coffee shop. sonder is addictive if you’re not careful. i am tempted to extract the stories hidden within every. single. person. i. see. but it's hard to form constant connection in a world that has evolved into what i can only describe as a perpetual state of disconnect. 

it's humbling to look out at the stars, but not just because they are bigger than me. it is humbling because i am embarrassed to be in their presence.

i woke up this morning, immediately reaching for my phone to refresh my notifications and see what i missed overnight. i let my phone blast a podcast as i drove into the busy city, where i did work on the tiny screen of my laptop before turning to my iPad for a break spent on Pinterest in which i scrolled through aesthetic plant photos despite the fact that there was a beautiful fern right next to my chair. i didn’t even realize my dilemma until hours later, when i was too busy romanticizing the memory of my morning to actually enjoy my evening.

it is so easy to look at the stars and be in awe. it is significantly harder to maintain that sense of appreciation when it is not handed to me on a silver platter. i take things for granted and i find that troublesome, considering tomorrow isn't guaranteed.

so, every summer, i spend at least one sunset thinking of all that i should try to become. i used to have the constant desire to start over. for every star i could see, i had three new ideas on how to reinvent myself.

this year, though, as i attempt to manifest summer with an iced drink and a brand new pair of shorts, i realize that i don't feel that same desire to throw my life away and start from scratch.

i'm quite happy with where i'm at, and for the first time in my life, i can truly say i feel comfortable in my own skin. this is the result of a rigorous blend of self-improvement studies, getting older, realizing that success comes naturally as i put passion and effort into my work - and probably that peanut-butter-banana smoothie i had last week.

joy sneaks up on you like that :)

what i’ve learned since last summer: i deserve to experience joy, no matter what’s happening around me.

when the sun is setting and i am looking for the first fireflies of the night, who will compete with the budding stars for abundance, i will enjoy that sensation of being small because it means i am lucky enough to experience a world so grand.

i will also make an active effort to refuse to let that glowy feeling fade - when i am stuck behind a truck littered with anti-feminist stickers and a driver who i would probably enjoy a heated debate with, i will not curse my very existence and drown in annoyance.

i will roll down the window, feel that cooling wind, and i will remember how lucky i am to be on the way to wherever i am going.  before i even arrive at my destination, i’ll decide it’s going to be beautiful.

with that said, i think i'll take my own advice. i’ll find beauty in the end of spring - knowing that the upcoming summer will be just as lovely - but understanding that it is also okay to simply be happy now.