freedom | A Platform of Sorts

Christmas is in six days. My general rule of thumb is that I like the cold and the gray and the winter weather (or at least pretend to) until Midnight on December 26. Once Christmas is over, I can go back to openly hating the winter chill as much as I darn well please.

Okay, so there are a few things I like about winter. I like hot chocolate. I like snuggling with blankets. I love Christmas. And I actually do like snow as long as I don’t have to drive in it. It’s pretty.

Ice can even be pretty.

The only problem with pretty scenes like this is that they come with temperatures like this…

That is too cold. When it’s that cold outside, my face often looks like this…

Or more accurately, like this…

Every year I start off thinking that I really do like the cold. I was born in the dead of winter, in the middle of a snow storm. I feel like I should like I owe it to winter to try to like it. But once the initial Yay-It’s-Cold-Outside-I-Can-Wear-Boots-And-Scarves excitement wears off, winter gets really old really fast. The worst part is IT’S NOT EVEN TECHNICALLY WINTER YET AND I’M ALREADY SICK OF IT. As far as boots and scarves go, guess what?! I wear boots and scarves all year round! I’m a writer who lives in Texas! Boots are a given and scarves are kind of a thing for some of us.

I’m beginning to feel, in a weird kind of way, that by professing my “love” for winter and denying my love for all things summer, I’m in a way denying a part of myself. I’m supposed to be listening to Christmas music, but I’ve been sneaking listens to my summer iTunes playlist for the past two weeks. Even as I write this, I’m singing along to Summertime Guys from the movie Aquamarine.

But when you think about it, all of this is really to be expected. I’m from the South. Southern girls love summer. We thrive on sunlight and open-toed-shoes and the smell of coconut sunscreen. Summertime is also the time for colors and being outside and swimming and flowers. Honestly, how could it not be my favorite season?

In my mind, summer equals freedom, and as a writer, as a creative mind in general, freedom is all that I want. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Winter is fine, but I so often feel confined and limited in the cold and the gray. And come on, shoes? Who actually likes having to wear shoes? My feet, like the rest of me, like to be free. One of my favorite memories is of my first Fourth of July working as a summer camp counselor. My co-workers and I spent the evening at our friend’s lake house and as the sun set, we ran around playing Ultimate Frisbee in our summer clothes and bare feet. It was the best Fourth ever.

Winter, I guess, reminds me too much of the real world. Summer is a fantasy. It’s a time for adventure. It reminds me of what I want out of life: mountains and oceans and gardens and hiking and swimming and running and forests and open fields of tall grass and flowers. I realize I must sound like the biggest hippie right now, but that is what my soul craves. That’s what it needs to survive. If I can’t have that during the winter months, I at least need my summer music and pictures to keep me going. Of course, I have my writing also, which definitely frees me, but I also like to experience these freedoms and moments for myself. It’s not enough to just write them. You’ve got to live them too.

So for the next six days, I will love and savor what’s left of Christmas, but in the back of my mind, I’m still anticipating the summer sun.

I’ve been a dreamer and a make-believer as far back as I can remember. Honestly, I always thought I was just a late bloomer, that my mental maturity developed at a slightly slower pace than my peers. Then, during a talk with my mother shortly before my graduation from grad school, I told her how anxious I was about being a real adult and how I was afraid I was still so behind my friends in terms of “real world achievements.” Instead of assuring me that I was completely normal and that I had nothing to worry about, however, she told me, “Well, maybe you’re just different. You have always marched to your own tune.”

At first, I really wasn’t sure that was a compliment, though now that I’m older, I’m pretty sure it is. I like being me. I like the things that I do and the way I see the world. Somewhere along the line, though, I’m afraid a vital part of me got lost. Even though I’ve made it a priority ever since I was a teenager to hold on to the dreams and ideas that have always brought me so much joy over the years, I can feel the harsh demands of money and status and reality striving to pull them away. Above all, the artistic soul craves freedom, and in a world where money and power are the Alpha and Omega, true freedom is hard to come by.

Like several new adults, I’ve let the idea that “I have to do this” and “I have to do that” in order to be successful get in my head. Guess what? It’s made me miserable. That’s not how it’s supposed to work, is it?

I’ve never believed that there was only “one true path” to success or happiness, though I’ve met several people who begged to differ. I’ve decided that I’m going to take the next few months to see if I can prove them wrong. The new book (the title of which I will hopefully be able to reveal soon) will be out on July 1. Along with editing, formatting, and working on new manuscripts, I’m going to try to get back to what it means to be joyful, to be confident, and to live each day the way I’m meant to live it.

To be honest, I don’t really want too much out of life. I like being outside. I like blue skies and green fields and forests and rivers and oceans. I want a good book to read. I want to get healthy, in mind and in body. I want to do good and take pictures and write. I honestly don’t care if anyone knows my name or if I get a fancy car or designer jewelry (though a lake house would be AWESOME). Or maybe the truth is I want everything out of life, it just doesn’t seem like all that much by today’s standards.

Regardless, I’m going to try to make it all happen. Wish me luck!