Moving too fast! How we forget to say goodbye once we're done
The gifts that season changes can bring.
It’s a funny old thing that the world seems to want to move so fast. That we’re constantly ‘onto the next thing’, looking ahead into our calendars to see what’s coming that we need to be prepared for.
And the real world, the planet, she’s still spinning at the same pace. The days are still 24 hours long. The months all still in position and line. The seasons come and go in order. The weather maybe changing slightly and the climate definitely so. But time it remains the same.
Life sure did get busy with the industrial and technological revolutions.
“When things happen too fast, nobody can be certain about anything, about anything at all, not even about themself.” Milan Kundera
A major movement of the 90’s encouraged us all to live life to the fullest. That anything was possible. That you can be and do anything you want with the right beliefs and hard work. That you should shoot for the moon and see where you land. The rise of the motivational guru with a fast track to millionairedom if only you invest in their five figure programme, to get you your nine-figure lifestyle. (I’m exhausted just typing out these words).
The message of that movement - That anywhere, is better than being where you are.
All that expectation and pressure alongside more office based jobs in a 24/7 globalised technology connected world = a hot bed for frantic life planning and a focus on what comes next.
An enforced or encouraged underlying belief that somehow “I am NOT enough”. Until I have achieved…. I will not be worthy. Only when I have ….then I will be enough.
"The idea of ‘having it all’ is a seductive myth, but the pursuit of it often leads us away from what really matters. Success is deeply personal, and it’s not about ticking off a list of achievements but about finding balance, contentment, and a sense of purpose.” Emma Gannon, The Success Myth
Our lives are incredibly more busy than they were two to three decades ago.
The pace of this living, the fullness of our lives, the lack of space to just be, means that in the pursuit of all that fullness, we miss out on so much that’s already here.
Eye contact with someone you love
Holding hands for a little longer than five seconds
Seeing the beauty in nature, even in between the concrete cracks (kids are great teachers for this)
Noticing another human that looks sad or challenged and being able to offer support
A meaningful conversation with your neighbour, rather than a rushed hi and bye all at the same time
The feeling of the weather on your skin
Breathing more deeply
Acknowledging how far you’ve already come
Celebrating life’s little wins (hey I actually put my pants on the right way this morning)
Gratitude for your body for holding you up, keeping you standing, enabling you to sleep
A cheeky smile from a passer by
The bonkersness of your dog trashing your raised vegetable bed nonchalantly
Time to write a postcard to a friend just because you were thinking of them
A coffee to sit outside and listen to the birds
There’s a whole list of everyday crumbs of joy that get missed in the busyness. The small and ordinary aspects of life and living that give meaning to our ridiculously boring monotonous and beautiful everydays. The ordinary that makes the everyday so special - just as it is.
“we seem to forget that the world asks for contact, the simple touch of another, hands on the door, a voice speaking out, eyes meeting eyes or the common water. Against all our contemporary speed, our memory loss and our willful blindness, we are still here, still embodying our own wisdom in the midst of it all.” David Whyte
Season changes happen.
We notice them in different ways. Perhaps at slightly different times each year. The two most obvious are perhaps autumn and spring. Autumn punctuated with its ‘back to school’ energy, marking the end of summer for families and Spring punctuated with the arrival of spring bulbs peeping through our soil. That winter is now in the rear view mirror. That warmth is returning again.
And yet we’re so keen to move on to get ready for what’s next.
It’s alive and kicking in our house at the moment as my partner readies himself to go to university as a mature student. As a childless house, we don’t normally have the back to school vibe reminding us of the season change. But this year, we do. Granted it’s slightly different in that we are not looking for uniform and I am not putting his surname into his clothes! But change is on the horizon. And I’m keen not to hurry into Autumn, despite it being my favourite season, without first honouring my summer.
We are crap at goodbyes in the UK. We don’t talk about death enough and sweep far too much ‘emotional discomfort’ under the carpet. When we do that we give it greater power than it deserves. Goodbyes and endings happen all the time. But we avoid talking about them, mainly for what it brings up in us, our deeper subconscious feelings. Nature shows us that endings happen everyday. They are normal. It cycles around.
As much as I love Autumn (my favourite season of all), I’m not ready to say goodbye to summer. I don’t want to fly on past into Autumn dumping Summer for a new friend without appropriately and respectfully acknowledging all that summer brought to my life.
So I’m hitting pause to write this blog, to honour the summer of 2024.
Summer isn’t my favourite season, I find it hard. We have a love-hate relationship. It has a direct correlation to a terribly traumatic time in my life a long time ago, and it still haunts me despite my efforts to forget and heal.
It’s a contradiction for me - I love the longer days, the lighter nights, the warmth, the music and food festivals. The outdoor living and dining, the sitting in a pub beer garden, that people seem generally less pissed off in summer, that more connection happens. It’s also incredibly hard staying cool and professional for work when it’s really hot or muggy weather, I don’t have the same energy to get through the day in the heat (hello siestas), everything seems to get so dried out, the rain seems to be relentless, it’s tiring keeping up with the socialising and I never know what to wear in the summer which causes annoying stress. I know, I know, all 1st world problems.
And despite all that, it’s good to acknowledge how lucky we are…
That we live in a place in the world where we have access to clean (ish) water
That we’re not at war and therefore safe
That we have a health care system even if it’s creaking at the seams
That the fields are relatively abundant with produce with keeps us motoring along
That underneath our sarcasm, pride and narkiness, we do know how to be kind to each other
That it didn’t rain all of summer and we did see some lovely sunshine
That some of my veg did actually grow enough and survive the pests to contribute to feeding us both
That I have good friends
That I get to go on adventures, however big or small
That I’m already enough
That there’s no where I need to be, nothing I need to do and no one I need to become.
There are many many ways to honour the ending of something. Funerals when done well, can teach us many things about how to honour an ending. A good person remembered well in an epitaph or obituary, does not speak to their achievements but their character, the impact they had on others. The small things, not the big things. That others are able to connect with what that person meant to them.
To say thankyou, have gratitude for what was good, cherish the moments that were special to you, show respect for what it or they taught you.
And perhaps my favourite and most important point, to leave with them what was theirs, and take with you what was yours.
So perhaps summer has given me some gifts I can honour and acknowledge, some small crumbs of joys that no other season can offer. That I can be grateful, cherish what’s good and leave behind what was never mine to begin with. Freer to look ahead to autumn, knowing I’m leaving what was summer’s all along.
Until next time we meet Summer.
You have my sweaty heart!