On the Closing of a Most Productive August

Typewriter - Geliy Korzhev-Chuvelev (1961)

A strange thing I've noticed about the effects of writing and publishing personal essays and similar material. When I am very candid in what I create, I'm left feeling like I've been picking at old scabs or otherwise aggravating old wounds afterward. But it's not as disgusting or negative as it probably sounds. On the contrary, it's actually kind of therapeutic.

For one thing, I find revisiting some of these themes -- especially the ones that are harder for me to think about -- is pretty validating. People relate to and sympathize with these experiences to a much greater extent than I ever figured. It's also allowed me to better understand my thought process at various times, as I've lost touch with it over the years. I used to wonder what the hell I was thinking when I did things like marry my ex or choose to tolerate other people's toxic behavior instead of shutting it down, but I actually remember now. And it makes it easier to be kind to my former self instead of simply writing her off as a coward or a dumb-ass the way I used to.

That said, I've actually finished all four of my entries for Medium's writing contest as of last night. All of them were very personal, and most also found me touching on experiences that are sometimes hard for me to talk about. I don't expect to win or anything (although I certainly wouldn't complain if I did), but I can honestly say I'm proud of what I put out there and think I represented myself well. I also really fell in love with writing creative nonfiction and plan on exploring it further in the future.

........

In other news, I can't believe how quickly the summer seems to be passing this year. Although the rest of the West Coast appears to be as much of a shitshow as it was last year, the weather has been really lovely in my neck of the woods. Almost too nice, especially for this time of year. Going through my Facebook memories every day has confirmed that virtually every other year has found me sweltering in the heat and practically wishing for death by now. 

I'm hoping against hope that maybe we'll get a clean break from the heat altogether, meaning we might not get an Indian summer in the early fall, either. Because I've been having a wonderful summer -- maybe even one of the best of my life. It's been a summer full of wonderful dinners enjoyed in excellent company, evening card games in the fresh air, occasional fun desserts, and unexpected wildlife sightings. 

I actually don't remember the last time I spent this much time outdoors or enjoyed it this much, but I hope it's something that will become a habit moving forward. It's been very good for me mentally and emotionally and quite inspiring when it comes to my creative work. Typically, August is a reasonably unproductive month for me, but this one has been an exception. I've gotten a lot done in every aspect of my life, and I feel fantastic about myself as a result. 

I suppose next month, it will be time to start thinking about fall and getting into the spirit there. In the part of California where I live, there really aren't distinct seasonal changes. The temperature will go up and down some, and the number of daylight hours will change, but that's about it. Otherwise, the days and months bleed together into this weird, homogenous soup. I mostly have to use my imagination to truly feel like I experience drastically different times of the year like everyone else. But thankfully, my imagination is still alive and well, even at this age.