Chapter 1: The Ocean's Edge

Standing at the water's edge is my favorite sensation, feeling the sand and ocean slowly engulf my feet. It serves as a reminder of the vastness of the universe and my small place within it.

After returning from Cape Cod, where I paused my daily routine to immerse myself in the Atlantic for a week, I realized how travel can profoundly reveal the dynamics of relationships. It's fascinating how stepping away from the norm with someone can highlight aspects of your bond that might otherwise go unnoticed. It's clear that I haven't traveled enough lately; the constraints of daily life and my own misconceptions have hindered my adventures. But there's so much to learn from stepping outside one’s comfort zone that remaining stationary cannot provide.

Summer, much like a vacation, offers unique insights into life and the complexities of our relationships. The saying "perspective is everything" rings true; leaving behind the mundane allows for clearer understanding of what's not functioning well—or even more importantly, why it isn't.

Suddenly, I remembered how much I enjoyed driving. Being behind the wheel used to be my element, a space where I felt completely in control. Yet, over time, I shied away from highways, convincing myself I was nervous about driving.

How did I lose that confidence? Why have I become so reserved? The summer began with me feeling alive, yet life seemed to pull me in countless directions, leading to a mid-thirties existential crisis. The ongoing changes in my life feel gradual yet thrilling, a journey of self-discovery long overdue.

As summer acts as a catalyst for change, it serves as a reminder of the beauty and transience of life.

Chapter 2: Acknowledging What Isn't Working

There are undeniable aspects of my life that are not functioning as they should, and it's unsettling. Facing this reality feels akin to being on a roller coaster just before the drop. I apologize for my metaphorical musings tonight; the combination of beach days and a crumbling relationship feels overwhelming. Whenever I indulge in the music of Evermore and Folklore, my language becomes more poetic, and my thoughts appear muddled.

In my younger days, the beginning and end of summer acted as checkpoints, guiding my progress in both life and career. Now, I find myself counting down the years until my children finish school, a countdown that feels unfamiliar and daunting.

Recently, I joined a local critique group, and since February, I've noticed significant improvements in my writing. There's something special about engaging with fellow writers; their perspectives on the world differ from those who do not write. Central Connecticut has proven to be connected to the literary scene in ways I hadn’t anticipated, offering more opportunities in just six months than I found in four years in Arizona—perhaps due to my proximity to Mark Twain's home and Noah Webster's legacy.

I need to revise a manuscript that once inspired me during endless waits in my youngest child’s school pick-up line. My connection to that project has shifted, much like my relationship with my partner. I presented the initial chapters to my writing group, receiving encouraging feedback that suggested I should refine it further. Others need to see this work; perhaps I truly have something worthwhile.

Reluctance may carry deeper significance, just like the persistent feeling that “something is missing,” echoing within me.

It is what it is.

Vacations serve as planned getaways, but they also act as a magnifying glass for underlying issues. The beach and sunsets can be beautiful backdrops for romantic renewal, yet I found myself attempting to salvage something that felt irreparable. Despite my efforts, clarity began to emerge, revealing a path that is more solitary than I anticipated. I sought resolution at the shore, but instead, I gained insight into what lies ahead.

Until next time. Thank you for reading.

-J

John Prine's "Summer's End" captures the bittersweet essence of fleeting moments and relationships.

The lyric video of "Summer's End" by John Prine reflects on nostalgia and the passage of time, resonating with themes of change and introspection.