It’s midday on a Tuesday, I’m wearing a lot of pink today and I’m thinking about when I should dive in for my snack of mixed nuts and crazy dark chocolate. The weather has been too warm for fall, leaving my apple picking adventures from Sunday to be too sweaty, and involving too many bees. But I survived, richer in apples and one thing checked off the Autumn list. Here are some other things I am loving right now.
- doing fall (& festive) things. This list includes apple picking, and having plans for a corn maze, and a renaissance festival
- my in real life book club Of Books And Tea Book Club, which I will start writing about soon in my blog Of Books And
- Yoga with Adrienne
- walking before work on my late dates
- my new job/ position (more on that, soon!)
- writing gratitude lists
- upcoming musical plans
ps. You can find me on Heroine Training, as I wrote a Fit For A Heroine Guide to Plymouth, MA
Time is a weird thing. Growing up in New England I’ve come to mostly measure time in seasons and school years. I take comfort in the changing seasons, there is a certain amount of predictability – even when the weather is all over the place. I can count on the changing of leaves and the pumpkin spice lattes. I can count on Bath and Body Works to have candles that smell like Christmas.
Looking back on everything I feel like Time is illusion. Is it moving in a linear fashion? Am I 5 and 13 and 22 as well as 32? Am I feeling these heartbreaks all over again and again because my heart it stuck in last September?
I always assumed that as an adult I would have Things “figured out”. (Didn’t we all?). I thought that time would make sense. That I would get used to the changing of seasons and they would just become a thing that happens. But no, every time the season changes for me two things happen: I lament time lost where I did not do Summer “enough”. I did not take advantage of the weather the “right” way. And also, I get excited and nostalgic. Especially for Fall as it is my favorite. For some reason it’s still littered in heartbreak. I bathe in nostalgia and try to pave my way through.
And yet here I am. Still working out the way time moves. Slowly, all at once…
Maybe not at all.
And of course, far too quickly.
Words are something that used to come easy to me. I could sit and write a poem in math class. I was always jotting down story ideas. I had lists of ideas for blog posts. I would journal all the time and seek out pen pals. Now I feel like the words are still there but they’re stuck in a glass cage, struggling for air. I’m not sure what to write about, and my ideas feel like they fall flat. Forget poetry, because words themselves ache in a way that makes them unable to be magical or lyrical. They were are. Words and words, a series of 26 letters put together with spaces and punctuation.
I’ve been aching for creativity. I feel like I am under water watching as my life goes by. I feel like the thoughts inside my head get cemented there and pushed away into the depths of memory, forgotten because they don’t matter.
It’s so easy to fall into the daily grind. I see it over and over. I do it far too often. Routine isn’t always nourishing, especially when it’s full of empty thoughts and actions, mindless phone games and constantly checking social media.
I want to be more deliberate with my time. I want to make the most of all these seconds we have to call our own, and I want to create something out of nothing. So for September I am challenging myself to write the words I need to say. I’m challenging myself to get out of my mindless bubble, to write reviews on the media I consume and to engage in different ways. The first way I am doing this is to write and (hopefully) post here every day in September.
Want to join me?