Sounds of Summer

For most of us, summer conjures pleasant memories--family vacations, the smell of the sea air, freshly mowed grass and long days that flow into warm nights.

Yesterday I settled myself on the fore-deck of our boat, just listening. Moored offshore from Niles Beach, the sounds of summer-- the plaintive call of seagulls, waves lapping gently against the hull, distant kid's joyful shrieking and the iconic tune of the ice cream truck pulling up to the the beach.

I had the thought: I don't need anything else. This is enough. I am filled to the brim with this moment. Crisp breezes mitigating the heat of the sun, my body is revived. I have nothing on the agenda for this one perfect day. Nowhere to go, nothing I have to do. Grateful for a healthy body, a calm mind and a spirit that seems to bounce back from every setback. This is no small thing.

The world is troubled. We are assaulted daily with an overwhelming array of heartbreaking news. Anyone with a drop of empathy can feel stricken, paralyzed or activated beyond human capacity. So how does lazing on the deck of a boat during a perfect summer day help anyone? Well, we all owe it to ourselves to be kind to our nervous system, especially in the wake of chaos and disharmony. It takes nothing more than slowing down and being present. Finding a respite in nature, while you catch your breath and restore, can do more for the world than worry and angry complaints. Tranquility usually results in kindness. In patience and understanding. We could all use more of that.

This summer has been my best one yet. Yes, the beauty is compelling, but really, it is all about the people. They make my heart sing on a daily basis. I so appreciate the strength of community in each place we visit. And here on Cape Ann, each corner of this small island houses people I love and remember from decades ago. My Florida friends are in my heart as we travel. Also- boat life brings us new connections and stronger bonds every day. It is an ever-expanding tapestry of diverse perspectives and backgrounds, enriched by every single person who contributes to the whole. 

Sometimes it feels indulgent to feel this joyful, but why not? What if happiness is the healing force we all need?