I do my best thinking in the morning. I write in my journal before I am barely awake. Lines of poetry come to me in the shower. I write down random thoughts as drafts in my cell phone. Yet I am sitting here after 8 pm with the urge to write. I'm letting the stream of consciousness take over on this one because I have yet to realize what it is I am meant to type here tonight...
I know we're not even halfway through August, but it already feels like summer is fading. It's a little after eight and it's dark outside, the last rays from the sun barely peeking out from between the trees. While this means that fall, a season with which I am in love, is coming, it also means the sunlight is lessening, taking summer along with it. I remember summer nights when we were younger and we would play outside until nine o'clock knowing our parents didn't realize that it was past our bedtimes. I always have more motivation to get things accomplished because it still feels like I have daylight hours left to use, hours in which I can write and work instead of lying in bed. That's fading now as we wane into another season. In another month the leaves will start to color and fall. I love the fall, love the smell in the air, love using the word "crisp" in everyday conversation. However, I am slightly saddened at the fact that now I am out of school all of my seasons seem to be running together.
When I was in school, my life was structured and divided according to the semester and the season. The end of summer was marked with school supply shopping and the ever annoying back-to-school commercials on television (which I might add are airing earlier and earlier every year). We had our federal holidays and then Thanksgiving. Christmas marked a hiatus of at least two weeks of reprieve, and then we returned to the grind in January, which marked the new year. We always had a spring break and then the countdown began to the summertime in which we would enjoy nearly three months of glorious freedom. As adults, we don't have that luxury of frequent breaks and nicely planned curriculum. We are allotted maybe one full week of vacation, or a few if we are the lucky bunch who have a job with nice benefits or have been with a company long enough. The days run into weeks run into years and the seasons pass without us noticing. The leaves fall before I notice they've changed. The snow is flying before I think to take out my peacoat. I step in the mud puddles before I think to break out the rainboots; and then I am sweating once again before I think to dig for my tank tops and sandals. It's all a blur and I wish it wasn't.
I am trying to make the effort to notice. When we begin to take the seasons and time itself for granted, we endanger that curious and creative part of ourselves which we so desperately need to hold on to in order to grow. It's never too late to play in the leaves or set up a badminton net in the yard. It's never too late to play with sidewalk chalk or color or run through the sprinkler on a hot summer day. Once we lose our appreciation of these little things, we lose our childlike nature, we lose our curiosity, we lose ourselves. I can't believe I let the summer get away from me without visiting the beach or going out for ice cream. I still have a month left to redeem myself and many months ahead which I can appreciate. So I implore you not to let life pass you by because with every blink you miss another moment, and if we take all these moments for granted, we may never get a second chance to live them again.