Hi all,
Transitions from one month to the next are not all created equal. Some months just seem to come and go – the calendar turns another page but it hardly feels like anything significant has happened at all. In other cases, it feels like the first of the next month carries with it an extra meaning beyond the mere observation of some arbitrarily agreed upon time tracking method.
August to September is an example of such a transition. I don’t have a great feel for why this specific transition always feels a little more important than, say, April becoming May or November ceding the stage for December (and the less said about the irrelevant July-August swerve lane or the pointless January to February handoff, the better).
I suppose one logical suggestion is that this transition marks the end of summer. This certainly would have rung true with me years ago but it doesn’t feel right anymore – I haven’t really cared much about summer since I graduated from school. A similar point could be made about how this change hints at the start of fall, very much my favorite season, but I tend to think of fall as a crisp and brightly colored period of several weeks that starts sometime in mid to late September.
I think the reason this transition always seems significant runs much deeper than just the feel of the air or the associations I make to past routines. There is a finality at the end of August that I don’t experience during any other time. This feeling cuts right to my core. A friend I ran into one time on the train expressed this best – he said he’d always wanted to throw a New Year’s Eve party on Labor Day.
I think his idea was getting at an important question – what ends in August? And why does it feel so heavy?
Hold on, really? We’re going through this again?
All this what?
All this poignant nonsense, oh look at this footprint, oooooo, how significant, how symbolic…
Oh, rubbish. And stop interrup-
What was that all about, anyway, the footprints?
The inspiration behind the post was how my running injury was obvious whenever I looked at my sneakers. Every time I threw away a worn-down pair, I would notice how the left shoe was significantly worse for the wear than my right shoe. I may not be an expert on running but the evidence was clear – I was not running with perfect balance.
It took fifteen hundred words to say THAT?
Hey, running is like writing in some ways – the reason to keep going often diverges from the reason to get started.
The reason to what? The point is the same for running and writing – finish up as quickly as possible. The comparisons just drag it out.
Well, maybe it would have been simple enough to state the reality of my injury and how it came through in my sneakers. But once I started writing, I understood that I had something less direct to say.
OK, but why compare it to anything at all?
Quite frankly, I think sometimes statements are just boring versions of writing. A statement about how running unevenly because of an injury led to uneven use of a pair of sneakers isn’t as interesting as comparing the career arc of a runner to a soul’s journey through a lifetime. I could also say it would have been boring to read but I shouldn’t speak for any-
I’ll speak.
Go ahead.
It WAS boring.
Good to know.
At least we didn’t get another bracket, a list of metaphors, maybe, a metaphor bracket, of pointless comparison to running injuries, thank goodness…
That reminds me, when I was researching the TOA Organizing Awards, I found out Ella Frances Sanders wrote another book. This one covers strange expressions from other languages – you sure you don’t want another bracket?
Absolutely not. Is there an expression there for boring blog po-
By the way, that post is another example of what we’ve been going on about, I think a list of books I liked for their organizing tips would have been far duller than framing it as an awards show.
Sure, duller maybe, or less dull, but it was still dull.
I also think it’s important to put a little effort in whenever a post is essentially a series of links.
Right, the links, those are my favorite part of the newsletter. What’s up this month?
Er… I figured since a couple August posts had a lot of links, I’d skip it in the newsletter.
Unbelievable. Well, maybe that World Cup recap, then?
Ummm…
This is getting ridiculous. A book of the year update?
Yeah, about that… maybe next month…
How about that summer wrap up you promised last time?
Well, I figured there, since the summer kind of stretches into September anyway, what with global warming and all that, maybe it-
Ah, never mind.
Huh?
So, did you leave the apartment at all?
I did, in fact, many times, so much so that Hubway – er, eh hem, Blue Bikes – extended my annual membership by a week. They also sent me a nice note – apparently, I’ve been to one hundred and thirty stations since I became a member.
Is that a lot?
I have no idea.
Anything else?
I think the end of August is maybe a different kind of ending than what we normally associate with endings. It’s not an ending in the way something is over but it does feel like maybe things are starting to wind down. Resolving to make the most of things during a decline can be enriching but that doesn’t necessarily make the end any easier.
Thanks for reading in August.
Tim
In the next month of… True On Average…
1. I reveal - the biggest word I know...
2. I conceal - a whole stack of useless management techniques...
3. You know the deal - a Hubway update, the last Wednesday of the month...
