To the Lake
July 12, 2021
Filed In: Philosophy
July at home is a hot, muggy affair. Humidity rarely disappears, meaning even my early morning walks, long before the sun breaks the new day, are hot and uncomfortable. The heat and humidity persist for months on end, the price of a delightful and mild winter. But none of that matters now. As I write this post, I’m sitting in a beach house, high on a bluff above Lake Michigan. The windows are open, and the cool lake breeze is blowing past me.
Pulling off the interstate late last evening, we turned onto the country road that leads to this quiet neighborhood. I opened the windows as we drove through the pastures, horse farms, and farms. The fresh smell of clean, the open air perfectly matched to the rolling hills of grain and the growing fields of corn. The scene was pure Americana and the feeling was of great refreshment.
There’s a peace that fills this experience. A cool breeze of relief after weeks of heat. Rolling hills speaking to the beauty of a slower paced life. An atmosphere that encourages rest, recreation, and revitalization. This is an experience that reminds me of the essential goods in life.
I had a productive week last week while my children were away. Projects that languished for months finished in an afternoon. I completed the first draft of a new magazine that I’m working on. I saw an open week on my calendar and rushed to fill it with projects and activity. What I didn’t do was plan for rest. It was good to work and check things off, but it’s also good to rest.
That’s what I’m doing this week. I’m slowing my pace, relaxing, and restoring. My life will fill up again soon after we return home. But for this week, all I have to do is nothing.