Creating Space for Peace

Everywhere I look, the conversation I am having and everything I read or listen to is nudging me to think about peace and boundaries.

I knew in January that the first part of 2023 would be a whirlwind.
~ My feature in the What Women Create magazine.
~ Editing and reorganizing new book ideas.
~ Family commitments and obligations.
~ My job.
~ Lily's college graduation.

Then, summer.

Summer feels like the most anticipated and shortest season in Upstate New York. Though lately, Spring seems to be having a meltdown, and she jumps right into too hot and humid. I wish she (Spring) would get it together; I like to ease into these transitions slowly.

Lily's college graduation was three weeks ago, and I'm just now having time to sit here and wrap my head around it. She moved into her first apartment and started a new job six hours away from our home. The graduation event itself was lovely, sweet, emotional, and a teensy bit of the bittersweet sadness I feel when I can't imagine how that all happened so fast. It was all the feelings and all the things crammed into a jam-packed weekend. It was another transition I was hoping to ease into slowly.

Whenever I started feeling overwhelmed (which seemed to be every day), I told myself that after I got home from graduation weekend and she was all settled, I would check out for the summer.
Regroup.
Take a breath.
Slow down.
Think about peace and boundaries.
What would that look like for me this summer? I don't know yet, but I'm committed to figuring it out. Today was day one of checking out, and so far, so good.
I turned off all the notifications on my phone.
I went for a walk.
I took photos as my first orange poppy flower slowly opened while I sipped cups of coffee. It was brilliant.
I ate lettuce and beet greens from my garden.
I sat on the couch and read because, guess what? You guys, friends... I'M FREAKIN' EXHAUSTED. This might be what burnout feels like. The whole eating out of my garden sounded good and self reliant, didn't it? It was, you know what a thrill it is for me to eat food I have grown in the yard. But really, the truth is, I can't even muster up the energy or enthusiasm to go to the grocery store.

I came home deliriously tired from graduation and woke up the following day with a tick in my belly button. I KNOW. It was an absolute living nightmare for the few minutes it took to remove the hitchhiker (I assume I brought it back from a walk in the woods over graduation weekend). I can think of only one other spot on my body that would have been worse to have a tick on—creepy crawly bastards. I'm still sticking my finger in my belly button to make sure he didn't have extended family members in there. All clear.

Assuming I don't have a debilitating disease from the tick in the belly button, these are a few things I think might feel like my version of peace and boundaries for the summer:
~ Check my email once a day, not every 30 minutes.
~ Silence my phone for hours at a time.
~ Watch my flowers bloom.
~ Stay home for days if I feel like it with no guilt or fear of missing out.
~ Take naps in my hammock every chance I get.
~ Have a beach bag packed at all times and sit by the water as often as possible.
~ Spend time thinking about what I want this next bit of my life to be about.

I hope that doing these things helps me feel some sparkles of inspiration, and I'll wake up wanting to paint and write stories because it's what I love to do. I'm going through the motions, writing every day and sketching, but it all feels..."meh."

I'm praying that creating space for peace and setting boundaries with all the other things will help me feel like myself again.
I can hardly remember who she is at the moment.
xo