If you know me well, you know how much I dislike Summer. I really do. I remember as a child, begging my mom to let me stay indoors rather than sending me out to play in the heat. My mom was the only other member of my family who felt the same way about the heat, so she sometimes relented and let me stay in. For much of my life I have felt apologetic about my dislike of Summer. It’s not the norm; most people look forward to the season of heat and light, barbecues, picnics and vacation. Not me. Heat makes me feel ill and long days with lots of light send a message to my sensitive circadian system that I don’t need to sleep when, really, I do.
I am coming to a place of acceptance of my feelings about this popular season. I admit it, talk about it and feel less guilt than I used to. Maybe the guilt has something to do with having siblings who are always cold unless it’s over 90 degrees. Or possibly from being married to a guy who handles discomfort without saying much about it. Regardless, I am coming clean about my true feelings for (almost) all things Summer. In other words I’m accepting that the way I feel is the way I feel. Full stop.
And I’m changing my thinking. Yep I’m doing that too.
It occurred to me recently that maybe I can think about this season differently. I’m not talking about pretending I like it when I don’t, but rather reframing it so that I can be a little less miserable.
It’s similar to how I approach walking the dog, our dog anyway. When I’m walking, what I want to do is walk. Not Libby. She wants to sniff. Everything. And her sniffing gets in the way of my walking. Sometime in the recent past I realized that instead of standing there, pulling on the leash and muttering at her under my breath, I could look around and notice the beauty of Nature. This may sound silly to some but, let me tell you, it has made a huge difference in how I feel during and after a walk.
In applying this practice to Summer, I have decided to notice a few things everyday (usually three) that are beautiful. Often it’s stuff like the way the sun gleams on the back of a black horse, or the pure green of the aspen leaves. It really doesn’t matter. It’s been helpful for me to change my focus enough to see that there are some things I truly like about Summer. Not many, but some.
I do want to make reference back to the fact that my acceptance of my feelings about Summer is foundational to this practice of finding the good in it. Too often, in my opinion, we attempt to change our unwanted thoughts or emotions as soon as possible. I have found acceptance to be a critical first step in any process of change. When I reject an emotional experience, because I’m uncomfortable with feeling the way I feel or because I’m unpopular for feeling the way I feel, my options seem quite limited: repress, pretend, and the like. Yet when I turn toward the emotion and accept that, yep, this is how I feel, I have more options.
In paraphrasing something I learned from Kristin Neff, one of the founders of Mindful Self-Compassion: when I am rejecting myself in some way (usually with judgment and criticism), I am both the attacked and the attacker. When this happens, my fight or flight system kicks into high gear and the adrenaline and cortisol start pumping. But how can I get away when I’m the attacker? Good question! I can’t. Another interesting thing I’ve learned is, that when we are in such a state, the areas of the brain that help with motivation and change became inactive. After all, the brain is more concerned with survival when I feel under attack, not with figuring out how to exercise more. The flip side of this is self-compassion (think of it as turning the kindness we show to others, inward). Self-compassion causes those same parts of the brain to light up and become active, thereby promoting motivation, change and growth. Sounds like a little acceptance is a pretty good deal.
So, Summer. I don’t love you and I’m okay with that.
How about you? What’s something you dislike or struggle with that you then are hard on yourself for? Please share! I’d love to hear your story.
by 
