act, rest, repeat - by Isabel - Mind Mine

The date—September 3rd—stares back at me from the top right corner of my notebook. The first day back at school. That’s what this day will always remind me of: that nostalgic feeling of getting my supplies together and my agenda ready, packing my bag, stewing in the nervous excitement of a new year starting, half-knowing what is coming, and half-not-knowing what to expect. It feels nostalgic now—familiar, but distant. One of my clients joked to me that I only like this time of year because I was a good student. He might be right, but I think the tender energy of new beginnings is available for anyone in September if they want to access it. I’m in a coffee shop now that I don’t often come to, though I may be the only one here who falls into that bucket. Everyone seems to know each other. They are talking about their kids, about what it was like to drop them off at school this morning. There is a lightness, a friendliness in the air. It’s sweet, warm, comforting—an energy that can someti

The date—September 3rd—stares back at me from the top right corner of my notebook. The first day back at school. That’s what this day will always remind me of: that nostalgic feeling of getting my supplies together and my agenda ready, packing my bag, stewing in the nervous excitement of a new year starting, half-knowing what is coming, and half-not-knowing what to expect. It feels nostalgic now—familiar, but distant. One of my clients joked to me that I only like this time of year because I was a good student. He might be right, but I think the tender energy of new beginnings is available for