I’m glad you are here to celebrate!
Share a link to your blog post below and/or use #celebratelu to share celebrations on Twitter. Check out the details here. Celebrate This Week goes live on Friday night around 10(ish). Consider it as a weekend celebration. Whenever it fits in your life, add your link.
Please leave a little comment love for the person who links before you.
Summer ends this week. I scroll through my camera roll to see where it went. I search for a single image to capture this season, an image I can tug with words to see if it will lead me to understand why my favorite season felt a little nonexistent this year.
The memories are here in photos — a rich summer of laughter and runs and made-from-scratch meals, family and friends and work and play, new adventures and old traditions — the photos stack in rows, and I know summer existed.
I pause at one of the first pictures of the summer. I am writing, working on revisions, Andy snapped a picture without me knowing it. I looked up and he said, “It’s just so you.” I smiled; Andy never takes pictures.
Of all the pictures of summer, this is the one I choose to capture the season. Words don’t usually line up the first time. They wander and stir and sometimes dance. In this book I tried to corral the words, but it didn’t work. Just like storylines, words don’t want to be contained. They want to run free.
And I let them.
Then I took the parts and chopped them up, moving them, and mashing them together again. I wrote the third section, and I thought it behaved.
I’m in another round of revisions.
It might not be right when I’m finished.
I’m moving forward anyway.
This is the season I’m in. It is not behaving; not following the rules. Summer knows it is for lazy days and long books. Summer knows it is for picnics and naps. Summer knows it is for un-schedules and following whims.
Summer changed the rules. Now it’s ending and I feel like I’m just catching on to the way this season’s storyline is going. I’m in deep revisions, trying to make sense of the way things are running wild and unabashed, while at the same time organize and mash them together into this one little life.
Mostly, I’m learning that I have a limited amount of time, energy, and capacity. This new season of living is demanding. It is highly scheduled. The kids no longer go to bed early. And they need me for much more than a bandaid, a hug, and a sippy cup of milk.
Just like I’m revising my book again, I’m revising the way I live again. I can either wallow and allow the frustration of finding my footing again to cast a dark shadow over this season, or I can choose to celebrate.
It is through revision that the story begins to glimmer. As much as I wish my book were complete and you could hold it in your hands right now, I’m thankful I’m revising. It’s not ready, yet. And as much as I wish I didn’t drop the ball, as much as I wish I didn’t disappoint people, as much as I wish I could get this parenting-gig right, I’m thankful I have a chance to revise and shift the way I live.
This is what I celebrate: Getting to adapt to each season in order to live the best life possible.
Thanks for hanging in there with me and sharing your celebrations.