The middle of the year for me, always feels like an overstuffed cushion – so much within it, to the point of bursting…an intangibly unmanageable mess. I don’t have time on my hands during this time of the year, ever. When do we ever, really? Between birthdays, holidays, important days of remembering for me, general life madness, work demands and an unhealthy dose of midyearslump…this is the time of year that makes me want to run into the mountains and make jam. But, my feeble attempts at making jam and serious lack of farm-purchasing capital mean that I must live through the time. And, look, I’m not saying it’s all horrible. It’s not. Not at all. It’s just a pressured time, and I respond only well to pressure when it’s someone giving me a massage. I am, although, avidly aware that it makes me impossible to live with, or know. If you ask me something during the months of June and July, I’m probably going to say ‘no’, and I’m sorry. I really, really try hard not to, and I really, really have tried this year to not be like that. Comparatively, when contrasted with previous years, I feel I’ve fared better this year than some years before. But, I’m not here to make apologies, or even offer stupid excuses. They’re not any of those things. They are, quite simply, my process. And, as someone quite wise once said to me:
“Never apologise for your process”.
It’s not all bad though. These months are also a jubilant time. There’s birthdays and parties and candles and presents. This pressure cooker of a bi-month contains so many smiles. These are the months where I feel closest to my own emotions, rather than just trying to fathom them out like a disjointed 6000 piece puzzle that’s missing a section or two. June and July are a slipstream, and I think – truly – the problem I have with them is that I fear losing control over them. Yes, I feel most in touch with my own head and, perhaps it’s that feeling of being near my own internal chaos that makes me question everything. 
Today, I felt like the world is too noisy and the light is too bright. I feel like an over-stimulated child, stuck in a brightly coloured toy store, and unable to find the door. So, today, when my kid climbed into my arms and fell asleep, I did not want to move. Not for a moment did I want a noise, another person or even a draft of wind near us. I just wanted to hold on to that moment and not let it go until I was ready.
But, because life is an ocean that never sleeps, she awoke and kissed me. Her notsolittleanymore head curled into my shoulder, she whispered: “best nap, mom. Best nap” and off she went.
And, somewhere, deep within me, I realised, that moment was enough.