this morning on my way to work, the city was humming with semi-bundled joggers and caffeinated 9-5ers, moving all together in this continuous, dreamy state.
and as we linger idly from summer to fall, the sky is a spectacular hue of oceanic blue—a true token to how much I appreciate colorado right now.
I’m reminded of how much I miss all of the things I’ve deliberately neglected for the last six months—like my frye boots, dark wash jeans, and steel-cut oats.
and as we tip-toe towards autumn, the days are becoming noticeably shorter, but I welcome the chilly mornings with open arms.
when I was little, summer seemed like this broad expanse of endless time:
we would spend our days perfecting the art of cannon balls and back flips, and our nights sneaking onto tennis courts to scream and laugh and come home with scraped knees and rosy cheeks.
but of course, summer plays out differently now.
I said sayonara a long time ago to rolling out of my warm sleeping bag, blurry-eyed and foggy in the middle of the pine-studded sierra nevadas. I’d throw on a pair of shorts and dirty sneakers and spend the day capsizing sailboats, writing post cards, and failing to nail the bullseye in archery.
these days, it seems as if adulthood scoffs at me far too often, as if to say: deadlines and obligations rule your life, edie!
consequently, I sometimes feel like I’m hurtling way too fast into this vortex of commitments.
and I can’t find the brakes.
but thankfully, october is here.
and this month is one of my favorites.
this time of year forces me to lower that inevitable sense of panic I feel when I realize I haven’t capitalized on all things summer.
because really, persistent, urgent ambition isn’t the stuff that
late-septembers early-octobers are made of.
things like milky iced coffee and carrying home the most spectacular sunflowers from the farmer’s market are.
I’m trying to make a conscious effort to s l o w d o w n.
you know, ‘be present’ – a cliché woven through enough yoga classes you think I’d actually embrace it.
because I hate looking too far into the future.
I start envisioning a narrative that isn’t, well, a narrative yet.
I find myself clinging to expectations instead of chasing my dreams.
yesterday and today and tomorrow are all a part of this greater story I like to call my ‘young adulthood.’ things like work and friends and travel blend together in a seemingly chaotic fashion, but it’s all a glimpse towards chapters that lie ahead.
if you know me fairly well, you’ll know I don’t mind doing things solo. actually, most of the time I really savor my independence and curiosity. I’m the type to chat up the maintenance guys in our apartment, just because I’m inquisitive by nature.
and suddenly, a stranger’s story nonchalantly changes my entire perspective, and the rising action to my young adulthood experiences a monumental shift.
so, as the weeks unveil themselves, I’m embracing them just like these luminescent fall days: with open arms (and a hooded sweatshirt).
happy wednesday, and happy fall!
(signed, the post-grad.)