Lessons Learned from a Big Nothing

Our Colorado mountain spring water was spiked with something terrible this summer. At least that is my hope.  I can only hope that some sort of covert biochemical sabotage was responsible for a phenomenon I experienced these past few months- much to my frequent irritation and chagrin.  The aforementioned phenomenon was a social one, and went something like this:

ENTER MAN, mid-50’s, white, upper-middle class, dressed in Sunday clothes picked out by his wife, at his ease meandering around the Church narthex following mass

MAN sees GIRL, early twenties, home from college for the summer, well put-together, affable, and trying not to talk to anyone.

MAN: WELL, look who it is!

GIRL: Oh, hi there!  Long time no see!

MAN: WELL, what are you doing back here?  Freeloading off of your parents I see.  HA! Ha! Ha!

GIRL: Aha, caught me red-handed.

MAN: WELL, I hope you at least have a job this summer?

GIRL: Well, I work two jobs at school, so I’m actually not working. (GIRL braces herself)

MAN: WHAT? WELL, freeloading and no job! What are you teaching these girls, Traci?

(MOTHER perceives the apparent distress of the helpless GIRL, swoops in and whisks GIRL away whilst uttering some sort of congenial apology for her daughter’s ostensible laziness of spirit)

SCENE.

I am sure that you think I am kidding right now.  But I’m not.  Two church men, a cranky old lady at Panera Bread whom I have never had the displeasure of actually being acquainted with, the podiatrist.  I’ve gotten this spiel from all of them.  The podiatrist, people! You don’t know me! You look at people’s feet for a living! I could say some things about you too, man.

It seems as though the vast majority of the people I come into contact with are under the distinct impression that, because- HEAVEN FORBID- I did not have a job this summer, I have accomplished nothing for society, and probably never will.

Well, you know what? I am tired of people looking at me in that pitiable way this summer.  I am tired of people turning askance as I try to recover the conversation and describe all the things I have been doing this summer.  That’s not what people want to hear, I know.  It is much more convenient for them to  write me off in the little space they afford me in their consciousness- Erin Dempsey: unemployed, not up to much.

Reader, if you don’t mind, or in the off chance that you are wondering, here are some of the lessons that my summer full of nothing has taught me.

I can not only run a marathon: I liked running a marathon.

Elephant seals have little joints in their fins that make it possible for them to scratch themselves in the most FREAKISHLY human way imaginable.  And they throw sand on themselves to keep cool.  And they are momentously lazy. 

Have you ever seen a great tree in the mountains that is still alive, yet most of its trunk has been hollowed out and blackened at its base? Now I know how that happened.

I know NOT to miss the last exit before the Bay Bridge.

Hostels and B&Bs are the best accommodations for travel.

Sometimes, it is necessary to quit something.

Do not serve something that does not serve you. 

I might finally be closer to understanding some of the best advice I’ve ever received: Don’t complain.  Be flexible.  Don’t complain.  Be grateful.

Rereading a book is not a waste of time. 

I cannot endure living in a two-story condo by myself.

I will train my future dog.  Very, very thoroughly. 

There is no rush to do God’s will.

Patience, above everything, patience.

Utilize job boards. That’s right, suckers.  I might not have had a job over the summer, but I’ve already got two lined up for the school year.

Start saving, now.

I can grow plants from seeds, and actually keep them alive. 

Be filled with joy.  Joy in all things.

I do not want to have nice things when I am an adult, I want to travel instead.  I want to raise my children to appreciate simplicity and to embrace new experiences.

My marriage will take precedence over my children.

I will take the time to thank God.

I can can. Syntactically awkward, but the jam is not.

I see a future in serving God’s Church.

I am done worrying.

And I have more.  But that’s ok, I’m sure you have places to be.  Suffice it to say that I wasn’t up to much.