Last month I wrote “June is for living,” and I think that’s one of the greatest things you can give yourself in a month like that. June’s gentle flirtation with all summer can be gives way to a sudden and full July, punctuated with plans and panic about how many of them you can take. June is spent pretending we have all the time in the world, and when we wake in July, it’s as if we dropped into the middle of a story already unfolding. June is laissez-faire; July is in media res.
I think we spend most of our lives looking for things that feel right, and when we come upon the things that do without trying, there’s almost a sense of fear that it will slip through our grasp. When I look back at all the ways I let June happen and all the things I try to make happen in July, I’m reminded of how beautifully human it is to strike that balance. The desire to do something perfectly, all the while knowing that doing it imperfectly might feel better in the long run. There might be an optimal way to do it, or a way to finagle your way into doing everything exactly right, but there’s no telling whether that will leave you feeling the way you want to feel. There’s no way of knowing whether having everything you want will feel better than only having what you need.
I find myself best in July because of this. There’s enough momentum that I can’t quite sink in the way I do in August or September, but there’s enough stillness that I get a moment when I need it. I feel the most whole when I’m wading seamlessly between time for myself and time spent with others. Between feeling like I’m doing it right without trying and worrying whether that approach will bite me in the ass later. The tension between taking it easy and making it hard for myself is where I become the best version of myself.
July is a dance I’ve rehearsed so many times I could do it without thinking. Something my body will just Do, whether I tell it to or not. Floating between sleep and awake. Between Doing and Not. “Between Being and Becoming,” as Ellie would say. It’s not quite consciousness vs. subconsciousness, but its not far off. Some might say auto-pilot; I’d call it embodiment. It’s a dance I’ve rehearsed, yes, but it’s more than just learning and memorizing and performing it perfectly: it’s like Time and I have caught up with one another. Like I learned the dance but the dance learned me, too.
I have no reason to believe this feeling of catching up with oneself is specific to July, or even something everyone will experience, but I hope it finds you. And when it does, I hope you know what I mean.
Don’t try too hard now, babies.
Leyna
Same