Shifting from Summertime Sadness to the Present Moment

Once in a while I write about things non food- or recipe-related. This is one of those times. (Although there’s a link to a recipe that intrigues me, below.) 

Tom is away on a road trip for a couple of weeks visiting friends scattered throughout Europe. I wanted some time to myself so I remained behind. Plus, we still had AirBnB guests so I needed to be home for them.

For many years I’ve had what you might call a touch of “summertime sadness,” that feeling of grieving summer’s carefree impermanence along with a mix of romance, longing, and loss (the emotional paradox of summer: you’re surrounded by sunlight, laughter, and warmth, yet you feel this ache, like beauty itself reminds you of how temporary everything is). Lana Del Rey sings of this, albeit with a very different theme than mine. 

This specific type of melancholy began when I was in my 30s living in Washington, D.C. I attended a happy hour with a friend on top of the Hotel Washington. The rooftop bar overlooked the backyard of the White House (as in “The” White House), a stone’s throw away, which I always thought was dangerous and lacked some seemingly obvious security.

It was that summer that I vowed to make the most of it, enjoying a happy hour at least once a week; maybe go floating down the rivers in the area on innertubes; and spending time outdoors with friends and loved ones as often as possible outside of working hours. As best laid plans often do, this didn’t come to pass and I regretted it. The following summer I made the same vow and — again — it didn’t materialize.  Was it me? Was it my friends? Was it life intervening while climbing career ladders? Who’s to say, but it always left me with an empty sadness, feeling that the summer had slipped through my hands.

That was fine in my 30s and 40s, but the summertime sadness morphed into something different by the time I got into my 50s and now 60s. Now it’s more of a case of “golly jeepers” how many summers do I even have left in my life?! I had better get busy living in the Now. 

If the average lifespan of males is mid-70s, that means that I could only have 15-20 summers left! But this is no way to live. If I’m lucky enough to have inherited the genes of my parents and grandparents, then I’ll have many more summers to enjoy. But what condition will my body be in to be able to actually enjoy these summers, anyway? It’s a morbid way to think, but also — at times — a realistic one (although I find it’s best not to linger there). Thinking this way is a good way to light a fire under my feet.  

Psychologists say that there’s a cognitive loop in the brain that regulates our perception of time. The experience of “blink and a decade goes by” without barely noticing, often signifies that there’s not enough change in your life and the perception of time is going by quickly because we are in the same rut or routine. The psychologists’ advice is to drive a different way home; do grocery shopping in a different order; cook new foods; go to different places, try new social activities; meet new people, etc. In other words, just shake up our routines so that we experience new things as much as possible — much like how it is often for a child, how for them time seems to last forever.

Late last spring I had our neighbor over for dinner and we briefly spoke about the feeling of summer time sadness. I was afraid it would get lost in translation because he only speaks Italian and mine is just functional. Apparently it’s a universal feeling for some people. He told me that ever since he was a child he has experienced the same thing. He used to share this with his father and his father would shake his head and say, “It’s only May! The summer hasn’t even started yet and you are already sad it’s over! Go outside and play!” I’ll have to check in with him in a couple of weeks to see how his summer went. 

Come this September I’ll have lived in Italy for 7 years. I blinked and the years rolled by with continuous home renovations. Wow, that went by fast! Related, I also see Facebook “memories” pop up from 10 – 15 years ago and think, “Gosh, that seems like just last year!” So what to do differently? This summer I committed to being more in the present moment and going out to experience what life has to offer. 

In addition to meeting many new friends from various countries and continents, I attended lots of different happy hours and a few sagras (Italian food festivals, the best being the one featuring mushrooms!); went to a couple of concerts; scavenged for antiques in new little markets; swam in the Mediterranean sea as well as a neighbor’s pool; hosted and attended a number of dinners; met some friend’s families, started creating art again, and welcomed AirBnB guests visiting from many countries, among lots of other things. Honestly, there was nothing monumental. No huge trip (that was in the spring!) that I needed to feel sated. But, rather, I more actively participated in life around me, focusing on people and happenings that were already available. I just needed to pay attention.

It’s been a busy summer, but rewarding — and one that I chose to focus on gratitude rather than a feeling of nostalgia or melancholy. This year, this season, there was plenty to hold in my hands and reflect on — and be grateful for. But then I ask myself, why should it just be summer? What about the other three seasons? I don’t need to wish away winter just because it might be cold and rainy. I think it’s time to give the other seasons their due and choose to be in the present moment for them as well. 

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Because this is a food-related blog and you’ve been patient enough to read my thoughts, here’s a link to a quick bread recipe that uses concord grape SKINS that a friend recently sent me (Thanks Jim C.!). I haven’t made it yet, but will once I see the grapes in the grocery store, which should be any day now. See? Already trying new things!

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