unofficial end of the summer = begin again

i am a summer gal.

i love the heat

i love the humidity

i love the long days

i love the kids home

i love wearing white pants

so when people refer to Labor Day as the end of summer, it kind of bums me out.  this summer has been different though, hard, good came out of it, but different.

this summer i battled, battled within my head, battled to be productive, battled with my words, battled to get out of bed. so to what some may call the end of summer, to me feels like a time to begin again.


this summer i got through with my people.  my closest friends.

what time are we running in the morning?

do you want to do the bleachers?

want to go to try a new church?

lets get pizza!

i am praying for you.

want to go to yoga?


you are awesome!

these messages may have come in because they knew i was struggling, or maybe they didn’t because i didnt talk much about it, but they came in.  they came in exactly when i needed them.  like my previous post, that is not coincidence.

my people, my friends, my closest pals, they show up.

when you are in that space, that space where you can teeter from moving forward or falling into a rut, your people make a huge difference.  when moving forward is hard, challenging, stressful, someone just being simple and looking to do the norm, the same accountability i would hold others to, that kept me moving forward.  i may not have been as aggressive as summers past, but it was forward.

this summer has been different.  i stripped everything away.  at my lowest, it was just me home alone in a pit of despair, it felt like the walls were falling in, the pressure of a 10k kettle bell sitting on my chest.  i didnt really know what to do, so i did nothing.

for the past month, i have done nothing.  nothing extra that is. nothing that felt like i ‘had’ to do it or a chore.  i didn’t do much laundry, minimal cleaning, no planning, no parties, no gatherings.  i didn’t arrange or schedule weekend activities and my evenings did not have events or commitments.  often times on the weekend afternoons i took a nap, i laid in the afternoon sun and read a book. some mornings i would walk, instead of run. i fell into shavasana a bit early and stayed in childs pose a little longer. i lite white candles and wrote words with a pen on paper, the best kind. i typed more words too. i prayed, i prayed to whomever, talked to angels, learned how to be open to miracles and practiced being more mindful with my thoughts.  right now i am sitting out in the summer afternoon shade on my back patio, listening to the boys laugh and chat in the pool, not feeling like i need to go change the laundry that is piled outside the laundry room. this last month of nothing, nothing that i did not want to do has healed me.

with the unofficial ‘end’ of the summer, i am looking forward to continuing to move forward, with caution of course, but feeling renewed.  i can move forward, even when i think the anxiety hanging above me will weigh me down, it wont.  i will get through it.  i may still go to bed early and continue to try to rise before the sun comes up to appreciate the day.  my appreciation is higher, my time more guarded and my people closer to me.  my circle is smaller, smaller but tighter and i love that!

i love that relationships move through and sit in your space and stay for the time needed.  some longer, some shorter but all leaving an imprint and lesson.  i have gained so much in the past several months, gained so much from the relationships that have moved on and the new ones being rooted.  i am so very grateful for each of them.

this week the forecast is 75+ each day and most likely 85+% humidity, so guess what, summer really isnt gone.  i plan on wearing white jeans tomorrow, the day after labor day, thats right, i’m still crazy, and enjoying the humidity on my morning runs. i’m not letting the first monday of september determine when my summer ends, but i am allowing it to give me the go ahead to begin, again.


disclaimer: 🙂 im not an expert, i dont know the super scary side of mental illness or pretend to, so while i understand this is different for everyone, this is how i felt.  i am thankful it was not worse, i am thankful for the tools that were in my tool bag but also understand and respect not everyone has those same tools or even has access to them.  this is my story


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