Let's have a paperback Summer

bringing it back to basics

Hello, friends. I’m sending you a hug and a cold breeze from my air-conditioned apartment on a sweaty 91-degree Monday in Chicago, finally drying off after my walk down the street. I broke from work mid-morning to meet a college roommate for coffee. We sat side by side on a turquoise bench outside a cafe in a patch of shade that made a negligible difference in my body temperature. I sipped a cold brew with a honey vanilla foam topper, the cup dripping condensation, and we talked in that specifically floating, candid way of best friends. We had an hour to spend and a lotta ground to cover. This girl has seen me on the floor (literally) and ceiling of life, and loved me the same regardless. The topics we covered were weighted, but the sharing of them was not. After a night of ruminating about what was out of my control, sitting next to an emotional anchor in the June light of day was a comb sliding through the tangled edges of my nervous system. None of the facts had changed, but my emotional tolerance and ability to navigate them had.

Spending time outside with a friend brought me back into my body and my life. Attention draws us away from rumination and into the present, which is all we have. It’s where we can be intentional with our choices, and decide how to make an impact and where to focus our energy. And what better time to focus on being the present than the sensation-saturated season of Summer, with its cold bodies of water and hot sun on our shoulders and being able to say “…but it’s Summer, so I’ll come.” Because Summer is about embracing a fleeting moment in time. Anytime I find myself saying “but I’m not ready” or “I can after I do this,” I pause. Can I fit Summer in now, vs. waiting until it’s too late? Can I fit life in now?

I’m declaring it a Paperback Summer. Not so much a keeping up as a slowing down. Taking it back to delicious basics. Not going anywhere without a book in your bag– in paperback size, tucked next to an icy can of your favorite drink and half-melted lip gloss (or in a bag big enough to fit the latest library release). As much time as possible outside or outside-adjacent (next to an open window, curtains billowing). Inhaling the scents of grilling, of freshly cut grass, of sunscreen. Hearing the crack of a wood bat, the clink of a metal one. A warm breeze blowing skirt hems. Road trips. Long, languid evening walks. Spotting the blink of the first firefly. Heat lightning. Rolling thunder. Lights on at night in a park. Inspiration from anywhere but social media: strangers on the street, movies seen a hundred times, garage sales, grandmas, childhood heroines. Hand-written cards. New haunts in familiar towns and cities. Running a finger along the spines of books in used bookstores, letting fate decide the next read. Radio station up, windows down. Racing a scoop of strawberry ice cream in a sugar cone to its melting finish on the walk home from the shoppe. The slap of flip-flops on hot asphalt. Saying yes to whatever immediate magic Summer is offering, not because it’s perfect or planned, but because it’s there, now, waiting to be appreciated it before it’s gone.

For the next two months on The Brooke Report, I’ll be sharing Summer loves with a nostalgic twist. Next week? A list of Summer Mood books, all capturing a very specific Summer vibe, and all released before this year (some recently, some decades ago), available in portable paperback or without an endless hold list at the library.

Wishing you hot days and cold drinks,

Brooke