Back to school?

August has come in with muggy heat and bright loud storms. The same energy accompanies it that it always has; although I am no longer in school, I feel myself preparing for the change and resolutions that September brings.

Yesterday I made all the wrong turns, I gave all the wrong answers. I went down the wrong streets on my way to work. I said the wrong words when speaking with my boss. I wrote the wrong numbers. I was seemingly stuck, and it seemed I had been this way all summer. An exercise slump has followed me through July, and the slow creep of despondence has found its way into my world, fueled by stories of ultra-marathoners, hugely successful former classmates, wandering friends, proposals, goals, and great successful smiles. My world, compared to the fast moving people I am surrounded by, seemed to be stuck in the remedial classes, getting lost. I wanted to be skipping a grade.

While all this has been going on, I have the strange need to take inventory. I used to count out all the colored pencils, the blank notebooks, the backpacks and pens, and see what I needed to start the year fresh. I still love the smells and aisles of Staples, Office Depot, the Container Store – all huge spaces dedicated to a neat and hopeful future. The process of school supply shopping promised I would do better, because I was outfitting myself for success. I have been doing this with my wardrobe – if I wear professional and successful clothing, perhaps the satisfaction of a full career will come too? None of these thoughts are grounded by logic, but by a students’ hope of re-dedication and a new perspective.

And then somewhere in my yesterday I was hit with this thought, that perhaps I have been so frustrated with my summer’s laziness because I have not accepted its natural “vacation” state. There is a reason schools let out for a while, in the thick heat when your sweat is an extra layer of clothing. I may not be in school anymore, but my summer is not meant to be productive, to meet goals beyond reading new books and making dioramas, or sipping cocktails in a hot tub at sunset.

Autumn is my time instead, where I decide to dream big and gather my moxy to push forward with new hope. Last fall I decided to train for a marathon. I tackled a few very difficult questions with myself, and I succeeded. I guess it is time to spend the cool hours of morning making plans for the fall, and the last remaining sticky hot hours napping and dreaming big and relishing the last of vacation before the effort of all those right answers.