That Moment Of Clarity.

Another blazing hot day and yet, the pool was pretty empty.

I was also feeling empty.

Earlier this summer, when I was offered a part-time job as a pool attendant, I was hesitant. I did not want to work this summer. I wanted a summer - filled with beach days, boat rides, fishing, bonfires, picnics, good books, writing, exploring, and slow walks in the forest. Yet, I was broke and could use some extra money. I could also walk to the job and being practically car-free this summer was very appealing (ironically, my car broke down at the beginning of June and I just got it back a few days ago). I accepted the job and resigned myself to being at the pool 7 evenings a week, all summer long. I could still do everything I wanted to do during the daytime hours and later at night. Right?

Then they added more hours to my schedule: working all day on Saturdays and Sundays in addition to seven nights a week. All summer. Essentially, this meant I had the complete opposite schedule of anyone else who worked this summer (including my own fiance) and would be unable to partake in the summer activities that I cherished so much. I dealt with it one day a time, cheerfully reminding myself that I am basically getting paid to sit by the pool and read, while sometimes kicking people out.

But... there have been no days at the beach, only one boat ride (at camp - which was the best week I had this summer and I'm eternally grateful for the opportunity), only one picnic (on my birthday), and a few parties. I haven't had that wonderful feeling that one gets when cruising down an open road with a favorite song blasting on the radio. I haven't had that moment when I said to myself, "Ah, this is summer." Something is missing.

I can only walk so far from my apartment and read so many books until my eyes tire. I can only spend a few dollars here and there when my wallet is empty. I can only see people when they are available, which is usually when I'm not. I can only apply for so many teaching jobs until I run of places to apply. I can only write so much until I loathe the laptop. I can only do so much alone until I crave human connection.

I've been in a bit of a slump. This summer hasn't been going the way I wanted, and the stress from both of us unexpectedly having to find good jobs soon (and move out, and plan our wedding) has been the icing on the cake. The past few days, I've been mulling over the thought that I haven't had a good summer.

What happened to all that positivity and enthusiasm for life? What happened to my original goal of living each summer day with a mini adventure? What happened to my love for life?

So there I was today, sitting by myself at an empty pool. No one had been there in the last hour and it was still open for another hour. I was a little angry that I was sitting there at an empty pool instead of cooking a delicious dinner or running around in a field.

Then it dawned on me: I have this pool all to myself.

The water is clean and clear, the weather is perfect, and there are no splashing, screaming kids. I need to take advantage of it! Why am I not in the pool?

I jumped in. I swam back and forth. I did handstands in the water. I floated on my back, looking up at the clear blue sky, reflecting on my thoughts about summer and thinking about how that moment was all I needed. All I had to do was break out of the routine and jump in. All I had to do was find another way to appreciate summer. I just had to change my mindset.

I just needed that moment of clarity. I am refreshed.

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a year ago: broken.