The Beauty of a Wide-Open Summer

Lately, people have been asking me what I have planned for the summer.

And my answer is surprisingly simple.

Nothing.

No plane tickets.
No big family vacation.
No color-coded itinerary.
No countdown on the calendar.

Just a wide-open summer.

And for the first time in a long time, that feels really good.

There was a time when I might have felt a little self-conscious saying that.

I know people heading off on beautiful vacations and incredible adventures this summer. And in years past, I might have found myself wishing I had something bigger planned too. It can be easy to believe that exciting plans somehow equal a more exciting life.

But this year feels different.

This year, I feel grateful.

There is something incredibly freeing about having space.

Space to:

• Work on projects I’m excited about.
• Spend time with Elliott.
• Take day dates with Darby.
• Bake when inspiration strikes.
• Go to Yocum on a whim.
• Pack a lunch and head out for the day.
• Stay home if that feels best.

Nothing is set in stone.

And that means everything is possible.

This summer, I want simple pleasures.

Fresh strawberries.
Sheet cakes for celebrations.
Long walks in the morning.
Day dates.
Road trips.
Backyard dinners with people lingering long after dessert has been served. (I have written before about why I believe there is something magical about creating experiences around food.)

I want to create a summer that feels full, even if the calendar doesn’t look busy.

Because I have learned that sometimes the moments we remember most are not the ones we planned for months in advance, but the simple ones we decided to make feel special. (A little like why I believe every Tuesday deserves dessert.)

For a long time, I think I measured summer by how much was planned.

Now, I’m realizing that some of the best summers are measured by:

• How often you said yes to something spontaneous.
• How much time you spent with people you love.
• How many ordinary days felt special.
• How peaceful you felt.

That feels like a much better way to measure a season.

There is a quiet luxury in not having every minute spoken for.

In being able to wake up and decide what sounds good.

In having the flexibility to work, rest, bake, travel, or do nothing at all.

In knowing that a meaningful summer doesn’t require a passport stamp.

Sometimes it just requires the willingness to enjoy the life you already have.

Maybe that means baking something special for the people you love.

You do not need extravagant plans to create a beautiful season.

Sometimes the greatest gift is simply having room to choose.

And this summer, I’m choosing to leave space for whatever sounds lovely.