"Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and you're 65, or 75,
and you never got your memoir or novel written;
or you didn't go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years
because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy;
or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing
that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness
and staring off into space like when you were a kid?
It's going to break your heart. Don't let this happen." ~ Anne Lamott
And just like that, we've shimmied into summer. My God, I love it. All of it. Tank tops and late night thunderstorms. Warm pools and lakeside picnics. Fireworks and flip flops. Peaches and more peaches. Road trips and just-picked raspberries. Cold beer and warm hearts. Toes in sand. Tomatoes on the vine. The evening breeze through wide open windows. Ice cream, always. A bonfire's crackle and pop. The smell of a forest. The sound of early morning, when it's just you and the birds. Tall glasses of iced sweet tea. A good book and some shade. The laughter of old friends. The glide of a canoe. The call of the wild. The sun's rays on damp skin. Floating on water. Staring up at the sky. What are you waiting for? Dive in.
