Intermissions

I don’t want to wish away time anymore

Aug 04, 2024

Dear reader,

I sometimes find myself in periods where life feels like it's happening to me, as if I'm caught in an intermission, waiting for things to resume.

When I feel this happening there quickly becomes a sense of disconnect from my current life. I spend my days some place else, detached from the present, living more in anticipation of whats to come or reflective upon what has already happened.

I was talking about this with a new friend recently. She mentioned that sometimes she has to treat her mind and body as separate entities. "Get up, body," she'll say, and body will comply. Body will make matcha, do what needs to be done, even if mind is reluctant. It’s a seemingly silly yet surprisingly effective method of grounding in the present moment.

I thought about that as I got in my car this week and retreated home once again, the city too much to bear. Body go home, I thought.

Last summer was my first in New York. My best friend had just moved to the city and on top of that, I was falling in love again after having endured the heartbreak of a five-year relationship ending. Needless to say, everyday felt dreamlike, everything so new and exciting.

This summer has been different. The days working in the cold office and the nights sweating under just a sheet have left me tired. I’ve fallen off routines with no good excuse other than being busy, and when I’m not busy, I’m recovering from when I was.

When August 1st came I thought the summer was over and I wanted it to be. I had come to terms with the fact that the whole thing felt like a wash. I didn’t do some of the things I’d planned and ended up doing a lot of things I’d said I wouldn’t. I realized I’ve been stuck in this pattern since spring, but experiencing it during summer—a time historically precious to me—only deepened my sense of shame.

After a few weeks of letting this melancholy feeling sort of roll over me, convinced it would get better with the arrival of fall, I decided not to waste more time. I wanted to do something about it now.

So I went home. In the summer it always starts with going home. To the ocean, to my mother. I arrived late and in the morning I went to the beach early, wearing the same lounge shorts I slept in and mismatch bathing suit pieces I’ve had since 2014.

When I was younger I could never last on the beach. While my family would spend entire days there, I struggled to stay beyond a few hours. Always restless, never able to keep myself occupied.

This time I stayed all day. I did word searches with my brother and brought my chair down by the water to read. I went for walks, popping into the surf shop, which smelled like hermit crabs, and to the same luncheonette, ordering a BLT two days in a row. It tasted so good with the classic Lays chips and a slight sunburn. The ocean was cold and the tide rough but I didn’t mind. Summer felt like summer again.

On my way back to the city today, I turned off the podcasts and instead sang to the same songs I used to when summer was just summer. When life was more simple than I even realized. It still can be, sometimes you just have to force yourself to let it be. I’ve said this once and I’ll have to remind myself again: sometimes finding presence requires real effort. Sometimes you have to actively seek ways to reconnect and find joy. To make yourself enjoy where you are now, rather than waiting for things to feel better.

In the past year, I’ve been so focused on growing, evolving, and striving for the future that I’ve rushed through the present, unintentionally wishing time away. This summer hasn’t felt as dreamlike as the last, but this weekend, I was reminded that it’s not over. It’s still August, I’m not 26 yet, and it’s okay to simply be here, wherever that might be.

I went home searching for summer and for something to write about, and I found both. It may not be much, but it’s what I have to offer. I like to think that’s enough.