Summer Strings

Sometimes sleep is not easy, something internal is too restless or misaligned and I lay awake in the darkness instead of resetting my mind and body for the next day. The day following an insomniac night is either fantastically productive as my mind snaps into a sort of overdrive, or the whole day is like jogging in water. I still get places, but it all seems to take a lot longer and be more work. On a jogging in water day, I spend a significant amount of energy figuring out how to realign whatever internal rhythms allow for falling asleep quickly. Generally it takes a few days for the sleeplessness to resolve.

I wanted to accomplish a hundred things today, but I was jogging through water. This was the last full day of school before our life shifts into a summer rhythm. I know what it will look like. I have plans for making it work, but I wanted more groundwork in place. I wanted the house cleaner, things more organized. I wanted more business tasks complete. The next few weeks are very tightly focused, like focusing my camera on the strings of my hammock.

Beyond those strings, these few weeks, there are large green spaces that I both long for and dread. They will offer more freedom to relax and will leave space for all my carefully planned life structures to shlump unto untidy heaps. I like sitting in my hammock, it is a small and cozy space, supportive and comforting. I like that I’m beginning this summer with the energizing focus of book shipping.

One of my children came home with a packet of summer homework. It isn’t much. I’ve shoved it in a place where we can think about it again in August. The onset of school next fall is out beyond the open green spaces. It is something else entirely and I’m not yet rested enough to contemplate it. For now I’ll sit in my hammock, wrap my fingers in the strings, and contemplate the green spaces.