It’s a beautiful morning and I’m sitting at an old, weathered picnic table on my deck that overlooks a huge park with a peel of giant trees that house hundreds of song birds, all chanting like distant monks to usher in the sacred daylight. The morning air is cool but the heat is sifting in, telling us that it’s splash pad and pool weather today.
Being outside is part of my daily healing practice, an art I’ve just begun dabbling in over the past few months. Self Care Fridays involve slathering a mask on my face while painting or working, and my body is rewarded with MamaStrong almost every day. And now, in the mornings, I get “lake life,” which means coffee outside in nature.
I don’t live by a lake. I wish I did. Nor do I get to go to Paris when I wish I could. Or walk along St. Mark’s Square in Venice. But I can live the lake life sans lake and, maybe by doing so, somehow invite it into my space and create its authenticity.
If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be? I would live in Hawaii, honestly. Or Santa Barbara. Or LA. I would go in one hot second and live in a beautiful house in Echo Park. I would walk down the boulevard in Santa Barbara and visit the same few restaurants every day, feel the heat on my body, have dinner in the back yard.
But instead I’m here, sipping coffee, writing an art blog, being an artist, tending to things.
What’s your lake life? And what little elements of holiday and getting away can you implement now, sans lake? If you have one life but you can’t live the life you dream of, can you still live it?