It’s one of those memeable sayings you can’t avoid this time of year: You only have 18 summers with them! Make sure this one counts!
I appreciate this sentiment, but it can feel like inspiration with a millstone around its neck. The reality is, every second of summer isn’t magical. Every second of summer can’t be magical.
Some moments of summer look less like fairy dust and twinkle lights and more like lists and laundry, dirty dishes and deadlines, bills and band-aids. Sometimes people are hot or cranky or bored or tired or hormonal or otherwise off their A-game. Even smack dab in the middle of those very moments we’ve worked so hard to make magical.
So for all the magic-makers out there, I’d like to propose a new equation. What if, instead of putting the pressure of an entire summer on our backs, we thought about it in terms of seizing golden moments within those summers?
We have 100,000 minutes this summer, and some 1.8 million minutes over the course of 18 summers. Every one of those minutes won’t be magical . . . but some will be.
Yes, we can be intentional about making plans and carving out space and putting down our devices and looking our loved ones in the eyes. But maybe we don’t need to sweat so much to make it all count or beat ourselves up when, despite our best efforts, everything goes off the rails.
Maybe the moments that will become magical in our memories won’t be the epic trips we take or the carefully orchestrated itineraries we create. Maybe it will be the popsicles we eat on the porch, the deep conversation that comes out of nowhere while we’re running an errand, the book from the library that strikes our mutual funny bone, the time we make a flour-dusted disaster in the kitchen.
Maybe we don’t have to work so hard to be the makers of magic; maybe we can become noticers of the magic that’s already right here. We don’t need to fear that the time we’re given won’t be enough. We can take the moments the same way we live them: one at a time—one of 1.8 million at a time.
And who knows, maybe this summer can feel less like scarcity and more like serendipity.
So true, Stephanie! Magical moments are more magical when they are glimmers of brightness in the midst of the mundane and necessary parts of daily life. If we opened Christmas presents every day of the year, that would take all the meaning and joy and expectation out of it. I think it’s the same with daily life.
Greg and I have said, through some difficult and painful years, that ordinary days are underrated. There were many times we longed for one boring, uneventful day!
Your writing is always honest and heartfelt. I am grateful for you!
Kathy
“Ordinary days are underrated”–I love that! So wise, so true.
Summer, we long for it during the long winter months. We want to get out our summer clothes in the spring and mourn the loss of the swimming days in the fall. It is a magical and mystical time but it is also, as you so aptly described it, a poignant time and a time of mixed emotions. This moment is the one we have so embrace it.
I love your blog. Keep them coming!
Thanks, Nancy! And thank you for some special magical moments we’ve shared already this summer!
Stephanie, what a beautiful reflection about summer. I was traveling so much this year – 13 trips in the first six months – that I am beyond grateful to be home this summer. My favorite season! And that photo of your boys holding hands is one I hope you have framed or painted. Keep writing, and I also hope you gather these reflections one day in a book.
Thanks so much, Maggie. So many small gifts at home!