Dear Reader,
Someone close in my family has glioblastoma (brain cancer) and it has added a heightened sense of immediacy and awareness to my life. It is truly a horrific disease, but if there’s any silver lining to the gutting pain and tragedy, it’s the fact that it is a constant, stinging reminder to open my eyes and be here now.
I want to see my grandparents today. I want to drag my fingertips in my son’s bathwater, look him in the eyes, and play imagination with him (even though there’s laundry to do and floors to clean). I want to turn off social media and experience the world through my own eyes and body. (Though sometimes doing brainless things every now and then reminds me of how precious the good stuff is.) I want to pick up the phone and call my brother or catch up with my friend.
My “want to” list these days is pretty specific, and still yet, all-consuming. Family, calling my friends, training for the Army 10-miler this fall, reading, house stuff (we’re painting)...oh, and traveling!
Speaking of which, in one week, we’ll make our home for the month in Lausanne, Switzerland, right at the top of Lake Geneva. With so much life to live between now and next week, it seems a million years away. But we’re excited. Matt is able to embody the excitement more than I can, it seems. My mind is so focused on today—all the things that need to get done (why do we create so much to do for ourselves?), that tomorrow feels like it will always be tomorrow.
When in Switzerland, I look forward to having Ollie attend summer camps so he can meet children from other cultures—and burn off some steam! I’m going to try, hold me to it, to fill those several precious hours of camp time during the week with something other than cooking, cleaning, and grocery shopping—and obligatory exercising.
I do so much to prepare my family for fun adventures, and I often think that all of that preparation would be too much work to do to create an adventure for myself—but I want to build habits that show me that I care about myself, too. If I’m not exercising or doing the aforementioned things in my hours without a child, I usually want to read a book on a couch.
Last week, my girlfriend, Britt, and I laughed at this. Our husbands both have their “things.” Matt has surfing, fishing, and basketball (and awful, awful, football—I have a bone to pick with NFL and how late the games are. I also hate fantasy football and think it should die). I digress…
Britt’s husband is a Renaissance man and has many hobbies. And us? We just want to curl up and read a good book. And while we felt a wee bit lame for only having one thing—reading (writing is also a “want to” for me)—and being so tenderhearted and emotional about our love for reading at this stage of our lives, Britt said something that felt true and exciting. “It’s situational, Emily. I see older women who have many hobbies. It’s just the season we’re in.”
So, as I pack my Kindle so I can read on new park benches and patches of grass by Lake Geneva next week, I’ll also be accepting ideas from you for, “Emily’s adult summer camp adventures—Suisse edition.” (Please leave your suggestions in the comment section on things I should try with a couple of hours in the mornings—Thank you!)
Next Tuesday, I will be on the other side of the globe! I look forward to writing about and sharing my experiences from the next month of travel. I hope you’re having a wonderful summer, too, and tackling all of your “want to” items.
If you haven’t yet, start by making a list of your “want to” vs. “have to” do things. It’s helpful to know what you truly love doing as opposed to what you do because you have to—or think you have to. This goes for work and personal life. A bientôt!