Lazy Summer
A little rest can be good for the soul.
I haven’t written much lately. I’m laying so low I can barely see over my laptop. Many things contribute to this, although I mostly blame the heat. Here in the Midwest, humid heat feels heavy, assaultive. Other factors include the seasonal end of a chorus I sing with, upcoming travel plans, recent visitors from out of town. My summer so far has been wonderful! At the moment, I’m tired.
There’s also guilt in knowing I’m spoiled. Sitting in air conditioning, drinking my mushroom coffee, no sign of violence or even minor discord outside my picture window. I’m hyper aware of the world, yet safely removed from it. There’s a feeling it could change at any time, so little under my own control, and yet I contentedly continue my comfortable routine.
The desire to write is always within me, and I commune regularly with writing and creative friends. I often say that creativity and inspiration come in waves, which might last for days or weeks or years. When a creative person isn’t feeling it, then rest is a good thing. Inspiration will come again.
I’m lucky to have a few dedicated paid supporters of my Substack. I still find that hard to believe, and I’m thankful for it, and humbled by it. If that is you, dear reader, I hope you’ll forgive my downtime, and if you want to move your support elsewhere, I understand. Substack has grown so much that if you’re like me, there are too many friends and mentors now posting for me to financially support them all. Sometimes I move my support around, and I know others do that as well. My guess is that most bloggers hope more for readers (THANK YOU, READERS!) than financial benefits, but I say that as a retired person who isn’t in it for the money.
The rambling continues…
I distract myself with bad television, a habit I learned as a child. Our television was on all of the time. There’s something about mindless viewing of TV that helps distract my mind from worries. Right now I’m watching Love Island USA, a truly awful show about young adults looking for love…or a hot body. It airs on Peacock, so the usual programming rules don’t apply. All of the beautiful women wear tiny swimsuits that cover almost nothing, while handsome men wear regular shorts or pants. The women evolve to wearing see-through coverups, and now that the program is near its finale, some are even wearing flowing dresses. At first the almost-nudity surprised me, who even in my most fit days would not have worn a thong in public, ever. But I noticed that after watching a few episodes, I got used to it. I guess the male contestants do, too?
This line of thinking is not new to me, this focus on our physical appearance. I recently came across a group started by a brave woman about no longer caring what people thought about her appearance. Women - or anyone - should wear what they want, under arm skin jiggling, no make up, bikinis, leggings, size doesn’t matter, yes I might have body hair. It’s not that I don’t care, and I do know that when I clean up, I feel good. But I do this for myself, not for anyone else’s approval. It takes much less time, and money. Not wearing makeup is freeing.
The women on Love Island take off their make up at night, and sleep in the same bed as the person they are currently partnered with. In the morning, the women spend a significant amount of time putting their makeup back on - including the latest trend of dotting on delicate fake freckles - while the guys make breakfast. And each time I think, why bother? Everyone has already seen your beautiful, natural self!
I have my own deep-seated issues about appearance. As a young girl I was super skinny, covered with dark hair on my very pale skin. I was teased constantly. No one told me it was okay to look like myself, while magazine articles and television programs confirmed that how I looked wasn’t okay. It wasn’t just coming from the objectification by men, either. Women can also be hard on each other, critical, judgmental.
Who were we trying to impress? Where was the support of women for each other?
So here I am, at age 70, telling you all that you should wear what you want, watch what you want, read what you want. Rest when you want. What really matters is how we treat each other, hopefully with generosity and kindness.
P.S. Team Amaya. IYKYK.
Reminds me, which I can use over and over again to forget about how I think I should be and look. Thank you.
Our culture pushes the myth of inadequacy. For women, it’s how we look—what we have (or don’t have) that constantly needs correction. I’m learning to push back against this and tell myself I’m enough. That’s a gift.