Note: I often edit these posts after I publish them. The Power of the Blog! This one now features a new intro.

I am renaming the period of time that includes the end of school, Juneteenth, and July 4th Freedom Season. I love a holiday season. The Winter One lasts from Thanksgiving through Mardi Gras. More happy I say. Freedom Season features a complex set of transitions and traditions that cause us to reflect on the American Experiment and our values. A lot of life gets put on pause or slows down. We are asked to consider the past and both the imminent and distant future being created in the present.

Teachers arrive at Freedom Season tired. Some of us have summer jobs. Some of choose not to. The last few years I have been toggling through different modes of productivity. I’ll be honest: I preach about rest and boundaries but find it hard to stop working on summer vacation. I am an Aries Sun, a Leo Rising, and a Taurus Moon, an astrology that seems to mean I find work…fun and fulfilling.

While I live for the respite from the classroom that summer brings, it is tempting to fill the space. There are articles to read, virtual classes to take, and writing contests to enter. After working so hard to gain this precious swath of free time, here I am looking for ways to give it away. 

I need to dig deeper. Grind culture is insidious. How can I be sure I am not falling into its trap? Currently, I am in Myrtle Beach with my family in an oceanfront condo. The turquoise sea is calling me to come play, which I will do…as soon as I get a solid 500 words on this page.

I prefer to think I am leaning towards a soft life, where I simply sit on a lounge chair staring at the ocean, content to be, rather than do. On the other hand, sitting there, allowing the mundane details of regular life to drain from my brain, I am pretty sure I will think of a poem. I will think of a poem and it will practically write itself, and I can add it to the document that aspires to be a chapbook. Sigh.

This year was doozy. It was grueling trying to teach and write and promote two books and mom and be a useful member of all the communities that support us. I certainly deserve to do nothing this summer. Still, there is a kind of work that feels rejuvenating instead of depleting. I need to admit that creating brings me joy, too.

What else is on my list of  “purposeful work”, the kind that sparks my imagination and feels like a good yogic stretch? Right now I am trying to catch up on Jami Attenberg’s #1000 words of summer challenge, which pushes me to give my creativity the attention it deserves. I have a picture book to draft and a freshly critiqued manuscript to revise. I am planning a few conference presentations and more storytimes, as well as appearances in LA and Martha’s Vineyard. There are some bigger, future aspirations that seem pretty out of reach, but on a summer night, sitting on a balcony, listening to the ocean waves crash again and again, those dreams get a little bit closer. 

None of these efforts is likely to make me rich or famous. Some will cost me money, rather than make me any. This isn’t about capitalism. This is about craft. Even though I truly agree that rest is resistance, my craft is a huge part of who I am and who I want to be in this world. Maybe it’s okay to work on summer vacation if that work feels like a frolic: bounding and joyful and free.