Editor’s Note

Thoughts from the Editor

A few weeks ago, my son asked me, “Dad, why don’t you have the summer off?” I didn’t have a great answer for him at the time, so I replied with something like “Well, bud, I need to pay for our house and food.”

Later that week, I came home to find both of my daughters playing the ukulele. I didn’t even know they knew what a ukulele was, and there they were, strumming away. On a whim, they decided to pick up the instrument for the summer. Now my house is filled with versions of “Somewhere over the Rainbow,” or any song by Jack Johnson.

As I thought about the girls lounging and plucking on their ukuleles, and my son’s question about summer, it caused me to pause and reflect on the rhythm of rest and work. Summertimes and school years.

Growing up, the summer represented that longed-for season of slowing down, sleeping in, and playing all day. In summer, all seemed right in the world. No alarm clocks, no homework, no need to take a shower—just jump in the pool. A child’s heart is made for summer.

Rest and recuperation after a season of hard work is a rhythm that generates useful and healthy growth. We see this cadence all around us in nature. Just like plants need a healthy rhythm of fruitful productivity followed by rest, we all need seasons of rest along with seasons of productivity. Too much of one, without a counterbalance, leaves us either taxed and worn thin, or lethargic and unfruitful. The right proportions are a necessity for a good life.

Right around August each year, the feeling of boredom would creep in as my boyhood summers wore down. When sleeping in had lost its appeal and late night video games no longer captured my attention, I knew that I needed something new. It was time for a shift. A new beginning of a new school year. In order to mature, I had to embrace new demands on my time, attention, and effort. But along with the demands came the excitement of a brand new year. So, armed with a fresh Trapper Keeper, No. 2 pencils, clothes, and nerves, a new beginning was at hand.

As adults, most of us don’t live with the same schedule we had as kids. We also don’t live with the same anticipation for something new. When was the last time you picked up a new instrument on a whim? Unfortunately, life has far too often passed me by in an uneventful and monotonous trickle. But what if we awoke to a life of seasons? A life where we could try new things, enjoy our chances to rest, and then work hard towards meaningful contribution to our world? Both summertime and school years are gifts, if we are open to receive them.

Cheers,

Eric Riley

Executive Editor Lifestyle Magazine

President / Owner Topograph