Here and Now

The summer might be officially gone, and as I was putting the paddle board and rafts in the storage, I couldn’t help reminiscing about the last three months of sunshine, filled with trips, water sports, hikes, gelato, books, movies, friends, family, sleeping in, and many more activities and routines reserved for warm, long, care-free summer days.

Thanks to my adventurous and outdoorsy sons, I did and tried a lot of new things this year: I saw a black bear family in the wild while visiting the Yellowstone National Park for the first time. I slept in a tent with my son in our backyard. I was freezing for most of the night (it was the end of August) but I was glad I had done it. I spent many afternoons paddle boarding on our lakes and rivers, which was even more fun than the SereneLife ads had promised.

At the first sight, my summer seemed an eclectic mix of summer fun things. A typical leisure and pleasure. But upon a closer look, I realized that a few things didn’t really belong: books and movies.

Books? Really? Haven’t I written a blog titled 1bookperday? (http://1bookperday.wordpress.com) that promoted reading to children? Aren’t I an author? Unpublished, but still. Don’t I carry a book wherever I go? I did, I am, and I do. But I am not talking here about casual summer reading by the pool. I am talking about six novels by the same author and I am very selective about fiction. I call it guilty pleasure. I have no time for that.

But it all started when a dear friend of mine introduced me to Liane Moriarty, whose books apparently always brought her in good mood. I must have been in low spirits because I bought “Apples Never Fall” the very same day. Book after book, I read six of them and counting. “What Alice Forgot” was my favourite and “Nine Perfect Strangers” couldn’t be funnier, unlike the show based on the novel. If you haven’t read Moriarty yet, I fully encourage you to do so. Mind you, her writing is habit forming.

Then it was the TV. Again, I am not talking about an occasional Netlfix night on a rainy weekend or an Indi cinematic experience. I am talking about eight season of an old TV show during gorgeous summer months in the middle of Nature Paradise.

Until the pandemic, we had never watched TV shows with my family. It took too much time. But then came the lockdown and we opened the Pandora box with the hilarious “Schitt’s Creek”. The pandemic came and went, but the shows stayed with us and this summer was the season of "House” at our home. We had no idea it had eight seasons! We watched it religiously every lazy evening. And every lazy morning for that matter. At first it was mostly about Dr. House’s sharp humor, but then my son and I developed an appreciation for Dr. Chase’s Australian accent, which reminded my little one that he had always wanted to visit, if not live in Australia. Luckily we had a travel guide on the Land Down Under, so we started planning our trip, even though we both knew the chances of it happening in the near future were pretty slim.

There was definitely a trend here. Apart for falling for things Australian, that is. Everything I did outside- swimming in the Elk Lake, eating Bonta gelato, hiking up the Pilot Butte with my dog, was connecting me with my here and now. It was deepening my experience of here and now. But everything I did indoors was meant to take me away from my reality. I clearly didn’t want to be at home and I knew why.

Our house was a mess. A quick two-week-max house project turned into a renovation nightmare and we lived in dust and without floors for about two months. I dreaded being home. I was there physically, but mentally I hung out with Moriarty’s characters in the Sydney’s suburbs, toured Melbourne with Jesse Spencer and explored the Coral Sea reef with my son.

The whole experience reminded me how important it was for me to be in a place I liked. It didn't have to be fancy, but it had to be clean, safe, and without contractors coming in and out. As soon as the gleaming reclaimed hardwood floors appeared in our house, my habits changed drastically. I stopped escaping into the world of books and TV and started working, cooking and relaxing at home the way I should. My mood lifted and my productivity increased.

I am still reading Moriarty before falling asleep, and I am watching another TV show with my son after dinner, but it is all in harmless doses. It is not to escape or to distract me from my reality. I like it here. I want to be here. I’d rather be here, now.