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Category: tranquilosophy

Welcome to Summer

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.—John Lubbock

Greetings from Kanab, Utah. We arrived here last Saturday for a weeklong workshop at Best Friends Animal Sanctuary and I’ve been documenting moments from the experience over on Instagram.

I’ll share more about this week once I process it. The workshop consists of seven eight-hour days and we have two more to go. My mind if full, so it can take a few weeks to parse out all the nuggets and takeaways. Stay tuned!

To celebrate the longest day of the year, we headed to Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park where our 10-year-old physically challenged Gizmo turned into a puppy. Grin-inducing videos forthcoming. You can see him below kicking up sand as he ran beside me.

As we officially welcome summer, I hope to savor the natural world this season (and this has been a great start to it).

Feel sunshine on my skin. Walk barefoot in the sand. Notice the fireflies. Listen to the birds, frogs, and other critters. Stargaze. Savor watermelon outside and let the juice run down my arms. Go on an early morning or late evening stroll when the sun is less intense. Notice the blue skies. Lose myself in a good book while lying in the grass. Sit around a campfire. Take a road trip to the coast., mountains, or another city. Dine al fresco. Take a dip in cool water.

Summer promises adventure and a sense of freedom. May we allow ourselves the chance to hop off that habitual fast train to relish all that summer offers (like petting potbelly pigs—although that’s really a year-round adventure). Bisous. x

Holiday Weekend Play

Have regular hours for work and play; make each day both useful and pleasant, and prove that you understand the worth of time by employing it well. Then youth will bring few regrets, and life will become a beautiful success.—Louisa May Alcott

After an intense few days of migraines and that heavy, lead-like feeling, there’s a lightness in the air today. The sun is shining, wind is blowing, and city is getting quieter as many head to the beach and beyond.

Other than seeing the ballet Giselle and attending a birthday brunch, my weekend is wide open and I’m looking forward to the sense of spaciousness an open schedule allows.

In case you, too, have extra time this weekend or are looking for summer play ideas, here’s an assortment to whet your palate:

Lie in the grass
Ride a carousel
Visit a shelter and walk dogs
Drink wine outside
Swim naked
Grill peaches
Watch lighting bugs
Visit an animal sanctuary
Get a pink mani/pedi
Roast vegan marshmallows around a campfire
Run barefoot on the beach
Watch a movie outdoors
Visit a farmers’ market
Roast corn
Stroll along a beach boardwalk
Do yoga on a rooftop
Plant a garden
Host an outdoor gathering
Run a 5k
Pack a picnic
Make a vegan banana split
Wear a sun hat
Add an umbrella to your drink
Bike through a local park
Play tourist in your town
Look for adult summer camp options
Read a book cover to cover
Enjoy a sidewalk cafe

Wishing you a beautiful weekend filled with many hours dedicated to play. These are the moments that nurture our soul and make days both “useful and pleasant,” as Louisa encourages us. Go ahead, jump on that carousel or in that pool. Bisous. x

A Book’s Promise

In books I have traveled, not only to other worlds, but into my own.—Anna Quindlen

Books. I look around my tiny home and am surrounded by bound printed pages. Stacks of them. Everywhere. Three on my desk. Three on my nightstand. On the mantle. On the armoire. On the cabinet. And stuffed within the built-ins.

Some were gifts. Many were purchased because I believed they held a nugget I sought at the time—writing advice, simple DIY projects, mindfulness tools, a peek into the minds of women I admire (Anais Nin, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath, Georgia O’Keefe), and socially-conscious business practices.

Many remain unread. Especially the three 25-book stacks by the side of my bed. I keep that sacred pile there so that they aren’t tucked away on a shelf, but are in my face reminding me to read them. Instead, I stack more on top. That mind trick I played on myself hasn’t been successful. Yet.

Tim’s mom recently informed me about Bookbub. They send daily emails with .99 – $2.99 Kindle books on sale in the genre of your choosing. Each day when I open the email, I say a little prayer that there won’t be a book on there I “need.” A few times a week, my prayers aren’t answered and now my Kindle collection is growing.

I’d love this to be a  post about how I figured out how to stop collecting books using an easy five-step system.

Unfortunately, it’s more of a confession.

Each book holds a promise. A chance to figure life out, be happier, make the perfect handmade gift, eat more plants, write better, create more, make healthier decisions, do yoga a certain way, have stronger connections, save the animals.

And, I want all of it.

Although I haven’t purchased a book in 48 hours (she writes with a sense of pride), I know there will be more.

Since childhood books have been my trusted companions. My confidants. My opportunity to get lost. My chance to learn more about myself and others. My time to dream.

Books hold a promise of deeper connection. To our inner world and the world we inhabit. What better gift could there be? Bisous. x

P.S. Here’s a fun piece on 11 Bookish Things Every Bibliophile Should Do at Least Once.