How I’m Coping With An End Of Summer Funk

There’s been a persistent dialogue running like a broken record in my head over the last couple of weeks.

Psst. Hey you.
You’ve been kinda lazy lately, eh? (P.S. my inside voice is so very Canadiana.)
When was the last time you worked out?
You’ve been doing a lot of Netflix marathons on the couch lately. (I have been but they’ve BEEN SO GOOD.)
You’re wasting precious time.
When was the last time you wrote something?
When was the last time you went dancing?

Psst. Hey you.
You’re stuck.
You’re stuck.
You’re stuck.

And for a while I really entertained that voice. In my case, the more I told myself I was stuck, the more stuck I found myself. I thought about the to-do list I had in mind for this time, this year (which included publishing a second book) and hmph. Not done yet.

And then there was that moment this morning where I didn’t like anything. I didn’t like what my hair was doing. I didn’t like the outfit I was wearing. I found myself saying it all out loud.


And that was when it passed my lips, “It’s not my hair I don’t love. It’s not my outfit I don’t love. It’s me I don’t love right now.” Hearing those words enter the atmosphere was heart-wrenching and heart-opening all at the same time.


As the realization slowly sank in over my day, I realized it’s high time I questioned that nagging voice in my head.

I mean really, what’s wrong with taking it easy over the summer? What better time is there than during these hot and sticky months to give yourself the permission to slow down?

Do those early morning weekday 40-minute walks and 2-hour weekend wanders I’ve been religiously undergoing count for nothing in getting active?

Did I not already learn that often my creativity is something that needs to percolate – work itself out in the recesses of my mind – and much like birthing, it’ll come out when it’s damn good and ready?

Can I honestly say that I haven’t moved, shifted and changed over time? Am I the same person I was a month ago? Six months ago? My God, I don’t think I would even recognize me from a year ago.

So. I still feel like I’m moving through thick and heavy sludge. And truly, my biggest accomplishment today was dragging myself out of bed, getting showered, putting on some clothes and just showing up. But I’m giving myself the permission right now to JUST SHOW UP.

If you’ve been feeling even an inkling of what I’ve been describing – even it’s not quite the same but you can relate in your own way – I’m with you and I can bet there are others who are too. Is it time to question those doubts racing around – is it time to question their utility, their accuracy, their truth?

And maybe we can both just promise each other that the next time we feel that familiar feeling of walking through the sludge – we can start by just loving the shit out of ourselves. Because that’s where it all starts.


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