"I remember, don't you, when summer seemed to last forever. Delicious days with nothing to do but dream and explore and plan projects which sometimes became realities, but most often did not. Still there was fun enough in just thinking about doing them.
"George Gershwin was right when he wrote those famous lyrics 'Summertime and the livin' is easy.' The livin' was easy back when.
"And though, technically, the living should be even easier now, we have somehow lost the spirit of summer. How can we recapture that uncomplicated, uncluttered, sun-glazed serenity which was summer as you and I used to know it? . . .
"First . . . Unclutter your life. Simplify. Do what must be done, and shed all unnecessary busy-ness. Make summer a casual time — keep your household chores easy. . . .
"Second . . . Be good to yourself. Take the time to listen to beautiful music, to read a good book, to look inward; and above all, as the kids put it, don't get uptight about anything. Or if that is impossible, don't stay uptight! Keep your cool. Make yourself this promise at the very beginning of summer. In other words, let it go. Chances are the world won't end before fall, no matter how relaxed you become.
"Third, and probably the most important for a summer of renewal and reflection, for you and every one in your house: Respect each other's need for privacy, the need to be alone. Tree houses are great for little ones. They are synonymous with freedom and adventure. Hammocks are marvelous for day-dreaming adults and children alike. Giant 'Do Not Disturb' signs on teenagers' door should be respected. And you, and every woman, should reserve a little private time to do what is important to you, as an individual person. Something of your very own. Maybe it is tennis — maybe it is macrame — maybe it is just taking the time to get a gorgeous, golden sun-tan. Whatever it is — do it.
"Fourth, Encourage Creativity — but don't try to force it. . . .
"That remarkable man, Goethe, said, 'He is happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace in his home.' Peace cannot be handed to us, like breakfast on a tray. But there are some ingredients which are as obvious as the paintings on the wall when you walk into a happy house. They have to do, I think, with respect for, consideration for each other. And a freedom to be oneself. There is deep interest in and encouragement of one another's chosen pursuits. Destructive criticism and sarcasm are unknown here. And invariably there is a woman, a woman with an understanding heart, who is mainly responsible for this happy, healing kind of place . . . a kind of place which cannot help but give a feeling of security and peace to those who live here.
"For us busy Martha-like mothers and wives this may sound like an impossible dream. . . . To avoid being shattered by trying to be all things in too many directions, let us seriously consider a summer of slowing down, of sorting out — a summer of letting things go that are not of real importance, and of recapturing that blithe 'spirit of summer' that will keep refreshing us and renewing us long after the last leaf has fallen and winter is here again.
"I will if you will."
