Enthusiastic Then, Content Now
As I’ve gotten older, my passions have shifted, mellowed, and occasionally disappeared altogether. But summer? Summer has always sparked my enthusiasm in ways no other season could.
I can still feel that first barefoot dash of the year—shoes and socks flung aside, cold gray cement under my feet. Inevitably, I’d land on a sharp little pebble. Pain would shoot through my toes, a quick reminder that my winter-soft feet weren’t quite ready for the wild sprints across fields or the trip to the mailbox.
When summer vacation began winding down, my excitement turned toward the coming school year. I loved finding out which teacher I’d get and which friends would share my class. On the first day, I’d slip into my new desk, arrange my pencils and folders in perfect order, and feel the buzz of possibility.
Camping brought its own wave of enthusiasm. I relished the planning, the packing, and the drive. The minute we arrived, I’d dig out my swimsuit and head for the pool with the other kids. Only later did I realize the genius of this plan—the grown-ups got to set up camp without us underfoot. Of course, when it was my turn to camp with children, I understood exactly what they’d been doing.
When Tom and I married on May 30, 1987—after a two-and-a-half-year engagement that felt like a lifetime in our church—I was practically glowing with anticipation. I lived inside love songs, hearing “forever mine” and “from this day forward” on repeat in my head. In my 20-something mind, marriage was the grand starting bell for life itself. Looking back, I can see how sweetly naïve that was, and I kind of adore that girl for believing it.
During my years as a teacher, summer became the Holy Grail. It wasn’t empty or idle—there were errands, classes, summer school, camping trips, and graduation parties—but it was a different rhythm. I could breathe. And after the final six weeks of the school year (when patience wears thin and sanity hangs by a thread), that deep breath was the reset I needed.
This morning, I sat on my screen porch with coffee in hand, surrounded by dogs and cats sprawled in their summer laziness. Cicadas buzzed in the trees, the ceiling fan hummed overhead, and I worked on a project for my coaching business. I breathed in the moment—broken arm and all—and realized that summer still makes me smile…just differently.
Turns out, enthusiasm doesn’t always have to sprint barefoot across the yard. Sometimes, it’s perfectly happy to sit with you on the porch.
Click here to check out other Sidetracked opinions
Click here to listen to the Sidetracked Legacies podcast
Want to create your own legacy? Join the Sidetracked Sisters and start now!
Ever thought about working with a Life Coach? Are you a woman over 50 who feels unfulfilled in your long-term relationship? Lisa can help you rekindle love and joy, and avoid a “gray divorce.” Check out Lisa Hoffman Coaching.
#sidetrackedsisters #sidetrackedlisa #sidetrackedspark #sidetrackedlegacies #legacywriting #legacystories #writeyourownlegacy #LisaHoffmanCoaching
Don’t stop here—peek at the rest of our Sidetracked Sister shenanigans at https://www.linktr.ee/@SidetrackedSpark
