Farewell to the dog days of summer…..

School has just begun but the days are still long and hot here in San Antonio. These last days of summer (the heat lasts til November here) we end up at the neighborhood pool– splashing and playing til we’re exhausted and the sun finally starts to set. We drive home tired, damp, smelling of chlorine with our hair on the brink of turning green. 

If it were up to my boys however, and summer could last forever, they’d stay home all day in their pjs, or as little clothing as is acceptable, inventing games, trading Pokemon cards, building legos and watching cartoons. Outside they’ll catch frogs and lizards until the mosquitos eat them alive and then they’ll turn the sprinkler on under the trampoline to create the most epic mud pit beneath it. The last few days they set up a “lab” of sorts creating potions on the back porch. Their inventions and experiments are messy to say the least, but they are so thrilled to come up with their own discoveries– to create their own play and prove their own hypotheses.  Writing this, it strikes me how in the moment I’m overwhelmed with managing the chaos and fielding their every need and whim. It’s hard to keep up with all the demands of work and life and then provide them the things they need to be summer kids: freedom, time, and space to explore and create.

These things seem pivotal to how I remember summertime as a kid. The long days gave us all the time we needed to start new businesses– (a lemonade stand, a bracelet boutique, Pet Sitters inc.). The magical evening air pushed back bedtime so we could stay up late together, eat dinner outside, catch fireflies. These things seem nostalgic and precious but they are the moments that remind us to be human together. To listen to our bodies, to rest. Without the demands of school our kids have time to connect with who they are and to pursue their imaginations in wild new ways. It’s hard to remember, as an adult still fully tied down by the demands of work and responsibilities, to instead unplug, to push back, and to breathe deeply into the slowness and beauty of summertime.

We live in a world that can quickly overload us with expectations and deadlines. On top of our own personal lives we can struggle with what is happening in the world around us and the injustice and tragedy that constantly bombard our newsfeeds. I don’t think the answer is to put our fingers in our ears, but what if we could open our ears a little wider, to include the chirping of the crickets and the giggles coming from under the trampoline? Can we hold these things together and teach our children the value of rest, creativity, and community? Can we resist the need for constant productivity and hustle in favor of slower, sweeter moments? It’s not obvious and it’s not always feasible but it seems that even a few more moments of attention and intention could take our weary grownup minds and bodies a long way. Our kids need us to say it’s okay to get messy and to create, to stay up a little late reading magical stories in the bedroom fort. We need our kids to tell us to take deep breaths and to laugh long and hard at the silliest of jokes. As we say goodbye to summertime and step into the routine of the school year, may we hold tight to the feeling of those wide open days and long lazy nights– full of tenderness and sweetness.

<3 Liz 

At WAYWAY we’re thinking about the earth and our relationship to it- the textiles that we use are gentler on the earth and require less resources to process. When we slow down and consider what we consume and how it affects our ecosystem, we soften and understand that we are all interconnected and our survival depends on the survival of the earth. When we pay attention to our impact- on the earth and on others– we can draw closer to one another in community.