My Beige Summer

Many have categorized this summer as—weird, out of the ordinary, passing by too quickly, or just plain bad. Fret not, it can actually work in our favor.

Summer is a notoriously challenging season for writing. Is it just me? I have to look outside my window and see gloom, rather than glee, to steady myself enough to put some sensible words on paper. Writing blossoms well in irritation, sadness, and hurt. Summer usually brings happiness and excitement, and those feelings rarely initiate reflection or self-analysis. I prefer to fully indulge in the food, wine, beach, and boating; emboss the feeling, and write about it in September.

This summer was not that kind of summer.

This summer felt unlike any other, didn't it? I'm sure you noticed it too. As I heard people around me categorize their summers—weird, out of the ordinary, passing by too quickly, or just plain bad—I couldn't help but think that this collective sentiment hinted at a shift in our lives, a change for the better.

I felt it, somewhere around May. I had a feeling this year will be different, and should be approached accordingly. Differently.

I thrive on my European summers. It's…