It makes sense to me that we’re seasonal creatures. Our branches reset in April; they stretch in July.
Summertime pulls us like taffy. Summertime exposes us. The heat and the water and the smiles make us vulnerable at a time when we’re ready to be handled. Summertime makes us malleable.
Don’t try to be Summer in October. It’s ugly. You will shatter into millions of pieces. First, you will stand over yourself in disbelief. You might read a book or remember how much you like orange and red in the trees. Some of you will pour yourselves a drink. And then you will spend the holidays desperate to recover. Gathering yourself day by day and dreaming of Spring.
Don’t feel bad. This sort of thing happens a lot. We cry more in the Winter. We pray more. We ask ourselves more questions when we’re broken and cold.