Currently: June to July and Just This Moment
Notes from the Scented, Salted, Sparkly Side of Summer
"Give me days that are unstructured, wonder-filled, and a little sticky with joy."
I’m not trying to win at summer this year.
Just letting it be slow, sweet, and sometimes messy.
This is what I’m feeling, noticing, resisting, and craving in these summertime moments:
Smelling
Like coconut cream pie. All the lotions, body butters, even my deodorant are coconut and vanilla scented. I smell downright edible and delicious.
There was a time I avoided scented anything: laundry detergent, shampoo, conditioner, candles. But lately, as I’ve been working to regulate my nervous system, I’ve noticed I can tolerate the smell-goods again. I’m pretty sure it’s tied to over-stimulation. When everything feels loud, even the softest scent, delicious or stinky, can be too much.
(Which reminds me of my favorite phrase from my friend Betsy, who announced on a particularly “loud” day: “I’m too grumpy for stinky cheese.” I loved it so much, I had it printed on a t-shirt for her.)
Watching
Downton Abbey, again. Maybe we’re reliving the slow rhythm of our childhood summers, when reruns were all there was to watch. There’s something deeply comforting about slipping into a familiar world on these long, golden evenings.
Wishing summer would
Feel like it did when I was a child - endless, barefoot, and full of firefly magic.
Back then, time stretched wide like a front porch swing, and the days weren’t measured by productivity, but by how many popsicles you ate or how late you stayed outside after dark. I want a taste of that again. Give me days that are unstructured, wonder-filled, and a little sticky with joy.
Resisting
The pressure to make my days count. There’s this buzzing message all around: do more, be more, squeeze the juice out of every moment. And while I love a full, vibrant life, I’m noticing how quickly I turn even the idea of rest into a task. I’m resisting the hustle of leisure, the temptation to curate a perfect season. I want to live it, not perform it.
Tasting
Crisp slices of watermelon sprinkled with salt. And if I lay out newspaper on the table to catch the juicy drips, I’m transported right back to my childhood kitchen with its green-and-beige checkerboard tile floor.
Listening to at sunset
Cicadas, buzzing and humming, their song rising like heat off the pavement. Cicadas and mourning doves are the sound of summer for me. It’s the music of late summer and deep remembering.
Carrying into July
Curiosity and a willingness to be surprised by delight. I’m not interested in goals as much as I’m interested in wonder. I want to be the kind of person who notices how sunlight hits the glass just right, who pauses at the unexpected beauty in ordinary moments. I’m carrying questions instead of plans. Invitations instead of checklists.
Letting drift away
Urgency. It’s sneaky, how it shows up even in the softness, pushing me to heal faster, rest better, savor more deeply. But I’m not in a rush to arrive anywhere right now. I’m letting urgency float down the river, waving at it from the shore. I’ll meet life in real time.
Feeling most alive when
The disco ball reflections begin to scatter across the ceiling, walls, and floor in the afternoon light. Put on some ABBA and I am, without apology, the dancing queen.
Just this moment. That’s where the magic is.
Thank you for reading.
I’m grateful for this space and for your presence here.
Whether your summer is slow and glowy or full of unexpected pivots, I hope you’re finding your own magic in the mess.
P.S.
Want to share your own “Currently”? Hit reply or leave a comment, I’d love to read it.
Thanks for your wonderful words.
My "currently" is hard. I've had to pivot from my hoped for plans of rest and rejuvenation this summer due to my parents' healthcare. Summer is always a messy time for me because I have such grueling teaching semesters that I put pressure on myself to both get all the things done in the summer that I had to put off and also to try to experience the lovely things I "should" in summer. Social media of people looking like they are doing summer right makes this worse.