It doesn’t matter how many summers I’ve lived through, each new one comes as a shock to my senses. Every year I stand amazed, sweating in the heat that I know I’ve underestimated.
I plan to not be surprised at the reality, I try to remember the intense feeling and brace for it, but it never works. Even though I remember the heat from previous seasons, the reality hits like a hot slap to the face.
I find it fascinating that the brain, with all that it’s capable of, smoothes over the rough spots in the previous season of life. I write and speak a fair amount about the “good ole days.” I know those times weren’t perfect, there was difficult times then as there are now.
I believe it is the wisdom learned from hindsight that give us a sense of accomplishment, gratification, and even camaraderie. I think the brain and its function is by design. The events, especially traumatic ones, tend to soften with time.
If our brain held onto the details without yielding some of the crisp ones, we’d never be able to use the benefit of those times for our lives in the future or anyone else’s.
When I was in high school we didn’t have an air conditioner, only a swamp cooler. Swamp coolers work decent until the humidity gets up. No one minds being sticky with humidity if the temperature hovers around 100 degrees.
When the temp gets up around 110 with August humidity, as I mentioned before on this site, it ain’t no picnic.
While I try to recall the details of those 2-a-day football practices coupled with a worthless swamp cooler in a boxed in, no breeze tract house, the memory has softened. Just like I have physically as well.
While I can’t recall the sweating and frustration in exact detail, I do remember enough to know I would prefer not living like that again. Similarly, I’ve learned most of life’s lessons that way. I think they call it “the hard way.”
It is those experiences in life that help define and guide us. Despite those dog days of summer, I consider this place my home by choice.
I appreciate all of God’s creation. I enjoy the grand forests and cold air. I’m in awe and mesmerized by the oceans, but when I set my eyes just above a squint and settle them on the desert skyline, my heart beats easy and right…
It’s not perfect, no place is I guess. It certainly couldn’t be confused with the Garden of Eden. Sweating is a reality here. I also think it’s a gift to be able to be physical enough to do so.
I can’t lie and say I enjoy the profuse sweat that runs down the spine, with the muscles on both sides of the spine acting as river banks, directing the perspiration down the river, under the bridge of elastic underwear band into the nether regions, but they say, “you gotta take the good with the bad.”
There usually is a downside to everything I suppose. I’m not sure if the perfect spring or fall weather year round wouldn’t get a bit boring.
I’ve also heard it said, “variety is the spice of life.” Whatever the weather, I thank God for another day, each one is a gift and we’re called, “to be glad in it.”
So I am…
All seasons are good for different reasons. Maybe we should use the dog days of summer to grow and blossom like the crops that are designed to feed others…
Just don’t forget the water.
The Water that leads to eternal life.