Summer Bummer
An ironic mourning of the greatness and potential of Summer before it even begins
As the warmth of June seeps into every corner of New York City, I find myself caught in a whirlwind of emotions — a phenomenon I've come to call the "Summer Bummer." It's an ironic mourning of summer before it even begins, a bittersweet feeling that clings to the preciousness of every moment. Summer, my favorite season, is here, yet the pressure to make the most of it looms large.
Imagine the paradox of feeling the loss of something you haven't fully experienced yet. The days stretch out with endless possibilities, each one a gem waiting to be savored. But with a packed calendar of exciting plans, including my much-anticipated honeymoon, I can't help but feel a twinge of anxiety. Yes, I'll be basking in new experiences, but I'll also be away from my beloved city, missing out on its unique summer charm.
Adding to this, I spend my working hours planning lavish, sometimes over-the-top summer trips for clients. Crafting their perfect getaways often amplifies my own vacation fear of missing out and a constant comparison of my own plans, because I know every behind-the-scenes detail of their carefully crafted itineraries. I typically build their plans around my own desires, referencing and sending them to the places I’ve been dying to go to for years, but haven’t had the chance to. How do I match the European summers and luxurious escapes that I curate for others? It’s a delicate dance between the joy of planning and the wistfulness of my own cherished summer days.
It's the ultimate summer conundrum: how do you squeeze every drop of joy from the season without feeling overwhelmed? The desire to do it all — rooftop dance parties, beach trips, outdoor concerts and picnic hangs — can sometimes feel like a marathon. And yet, the alternative, having no plans, can leave one feeling like a spectator in their own life, trapped at home while the world gallivants around, posting about their European summers and fun city plans.
The fleeting nature of summer is a stark reminder of the finite number of these seasons we get to enjoy. Living in New York City, where the climate swings from oppressively humid to bone-chillingly cold, the brevity of summer feels particularly poignant. Winters here seem to last forever, making the arrival of summer all the more precious and tantalizing.
As a kid, summer felt like an endless expanse of time — a full three months of freedom from school, where I could spend long days at the neighborhood pool and go to bed with dirty bare feet, a reminder of my time spent in nature. Now, it seems like kids barely get two months to relish their break. By the time summer camp is enjoyed, it’s time to move on to back-to-school supply shopping and new school year Sunday scaries. This shift only amplifies the urgency to maximize every sunny day and every warm evening.
Yet, while summer can feel finite, there's a comforting thought that softens the blow: the promise of many seemingly infinite summers on the horizon. I dream of the day when I'll savor a full retirement summer, with no pressures of work, where I can truly bask in the season's glory with everyone I love. It’s a beautiful vision of endless days spent sunbathing, enjoying soft serve straight from the ice cream truck, taking cold showers at the end of the day, and swimming in crisp, cold ocean water as much as possible.
I mourn the loss of summer because I know its full potential, and how great it always is. But I am lucky, too, to have this annual stretch of time to indulge in my favorite activities, and I am beyond lucky that I get to travel and experience new things, people, and places globally. Each summer brings with it the promise of simple and complicated, yet joyful experiences, and that in itself is something to treasure.
So, how do we navigate this bittersweet and somewhat melancholic feeling of Summer Bummer? Perhaps it's about finding a balance between seizing the day and savoring the simple, quiet moments. It's about cherishing the time spent with loved ones, whether at home or abroad, and letting go of the need to pack every day with planned, scripted activity. It’s about surrendering to spontaneity and seeing where it takes us, whether it’s to the beach, to the park to read a book, or booking a one way flight to a random faraway place we’ve never been.
In the end, the essence of summer lies in its fleeting beauty. It's a season that teaches us to appreciate the here and now, to embrace both the grand adventures and the small joys.
So here's to summer — may we love it, live it, and find peace amidst the hustle and bustle.
