Hello you,
I was going to write to you about inconvenient truths. I was going to write to you about how annoying it is to finally turn and look at the big rock in the middle of the room. The one that you’ve been trying to live your life around, even though it takes up so much space. Shuffling awkwardly and turning your gaze away from just how burnt out you are, or disconnected you are, or just how much you need that thing that it feels terrifying to need.
I was going to write that letter but it’s impossibly hot in London, there’s a perfectly ripe peach on my desk, and it’s making me think of slowness and pleasure instead. There will be time for the big rock some other day.
These hot summer days are some of my favourite. I know that people hate them, and I used to feel the same. It’s hard to love the perpetual stickiness, the frantic rummage in the closet as you try to remember how to dress for 30C, your house suddenly transformed into a family-sized oven.
In fact, one of my driving forces for leaving Australia was to escape the heat. I grew up as the pale kid slathered in sunscreen, prone to pink cheeks and burned shoulders, and the soft pleasantries of British summer were very appealing. After a few years in the tepid heat of the UK, though, I found myself looking forward to the days where London’s summer crept from ‘how nice to not need a jacket’ into ‘oh Jesus it’s hot, isn’t it?’
Because the heat forces us to move through the world differently. Our bodies beg for us to slow our pace. To meander barefoot on the grass rather than hurry along the hot pavement. To pause for a moment in the shade and let the breeze kiss our sweat-damp skin cool.
There are sensory pleasures to be revelled in, if we can pause long enough to let ourselves revel. The hum of sun on bare shoulders, the whole body satisfaction of a gulp of cold water, the way the long evening light washes everything golden, the juice of a perfectly ripe peach on your tongue.
And I know, I know, life still marches on. Responsibility and obligation don’t just disappear when the mercury pushes into the 30’s but we always have the choice about how we approach the world. We can always choose to turn towards the pleasure and delight, even if it’s just snatched moments in a busy, sweaty day.
And at this point, if I was doing ‘good marketing’ I’d have some clever way to segue into talking about Summer of Rest. But it’s hot, and my brain is melty, so let me just say that this is part of what we’ll be doing.
We’ll spend the month of August unravelling the urgency that keeps us from slowing down, cultivating embodied safety so that we can loosen the grip, open to receive more beauty and delight and pleasure.
It’s going to be slow, gentle, and spacious. Because who wants to be stressed out about resting? No hours long Zoom calls or arduous homework, just something you can play with no matter what your summer brings.
There’s a beautiful gang of babes gathering already, and I can’t wait to spend the summer hanging out. Like a summer camp of dreamboats, lounging around the fire and remembering how to revel in our lives. Come join the circle.
And if you’ve got any questions just hit reply to this email, I’ll do my best to answer them for you.
Speaking of which…
Over on Wayward Bodies, we’re coming to the end of our miniseries on rest. It’s been a theme of late, can you tell?
If you want to dip a toe into slower days and finding what feels restful for you I present you with:
Burnout and Emergence
100 Ways to Be Less Exhausted
And coming tomorrow… How to Slow The Fuck Down
〰️ One-to-One