Too Hot.

It’s too hot.

This is a phrase not often muttered by Alaskans. In fact, it’s a sentiment so rarely used because historically, there have never been temperatures that warranted such a complaint, seeing as how we’re used to negative degree winters.

But recently, it seems as if I’m hearing more and more of these comments in regards to our abnormal toasty temperatures.

Back in the day, summers here typically involved mostly rainy days and a rare cliche summer’s day. I remember we used to have this family convertible, was it a 1969 Ford Galaxy? It became so dusty from lack of use that we ended up selling it because back then, there just weren’t enough days in the summer that provided the type of weather to take her top off.

(of the car)

(silly goose, get your mind out of the gutter)

But the past few years, and this year in particular, it seems as if we have flip flopped on the weather up north.

Honestly, I feel like I’m back in California.

There’s the warmer temperatures, the forecasts with sunny emojis and no sign of rain, tourist traffic crowding up our roads that were never intended to house an influx of visitors, and the Swan Lake Fire currently depositing smoke in our small city.

Sounds like California, right?

Except when it’s warmer up north, it’s hot.

It’s agreed upon by Alaskans and out of towners alike that the temperatures that read on our thermometers actually feel about ten degrees hotter. Due to factors like proximity to the sun (whose rays hit our entire bodies as opposed to just one spot), when it says 75 out, it really feels like 85.

Despite this rise in heat, Alaskans like myself still take advantage of the sunsational (pun intended) weather and use it to our advantage.

Take yesterday, the Fourth of July.

With temperatures in Homer clocking in at a whopping 77 degrees (which again, really feels like 87 degrees), my family and I decided to hit the water in shorts and enjoy the holiday fishing for dinner, whilst also escaping the crowds.

There’s nothing like fresh caught ‘but on the ‘cue to get you in the festive spirit.

We picked an excellent day to get out of Soldotna too, for weather on the water was slightly cooler and a stiff breeze kept us comfortable as we reeled in pink salmon, halibut, and our fair share of cod, sharks, and skates (which one does not keep).

We came upon a sighting of minke whales and orcas, a raft of otterly adorable otters, we got to use the boom stick (an underwater firearm), and it was a fabulous day to be out fishing.

Alaska may very well be turning into Southern California at the rate our temperatures are rising, but hot or not, you’ll still find us outside and sailing the seas.

We’re not known for letting a little drastic weather stop us from doing what we do best: enjoying the great outdoors, of which we still have an abundance of.

Ten Years.

Where do you see yourself in ten years?

Ten years?

Ten years.

The question echoed back at me and physically stopped me from pacing, something I often do when I’m reading out loud.

I’m currently in the middle of Rachel Hollis’s, Girl, Stop Apologizing, and it was this particular query that literally stopped me in my tracks and caused me to think.

After the initial mental image of this popping into my head….

... I decided to sit myself down and really take the time to visualize the ideal version of myself and my life in ten years time.

What do you see yourself doing? Where do you see yourself living? What values are most important to you in ten years? Are you married? Do you have kids? Are you living your dream?

So I sat at my vanity, closed my eyes, and envisioned the most marvelous future.

And I got….

Nothing.

Nada.

I shook my head and thought, well maybe I’m just overthinking it.

Trying again, I took a deep breath and again got….

Nothing.

Imagining my future felt forced. Picturing myself in ten years felt impossible because I felt pressured to envision someone who was still figuring herself out, working to make sense of the present. It was a blank. It was like there was this mental roadblock that dead-ended and I couldn’t think of anything.

I could not see myself in ten years.

That notion scared me a little, and all I could think of was, well this can’t be good.

After expressing this concern over my inability to imagine my future to my journal, I then took my frustrations to my mom, who echoed my concerns with sadness in her eyes.

Well that’s too bad, she responded with a crestfallen expression.

I knew there was obviously something wrong with my ineptitude to imagine my own future, so I tried a new tactic, a different approach to this most perplexing question that I was having so much trouble answering.

So I go to Homer to take my mind off this panic-inducing question, and I find myself at a family friend’s beautiful timber frame home. I was sitting in the hot tub, sipping a mojito, relaxing after a day of halibut fishing that left my muscles sore, skin tanned (and maybe a little burned) from the sea sun, overlooking the beautiful Bay before me, and it was in that time, in that place, and in that moment in my life that I realized how to answer this question.

See, it was here in this distinct time in my day that I felt engulfed by these seemingly insignificant details that came together and made me realize that this was the kind of life I envisioned myself living in ten years, feeling this pure happiness.  

I think, in my head, when I first tried to envision my future self, I imagined living in this fantastical world, where nothing was off limits and I was living the most idealistic version of myself.

And the problem with imagining my future self is that I’m still learning who I am as a person. I’m still finding my values, my priorities, the things and people that make me the most happy, what sets my soul on fire, and I’m continuously growing into the woman I’m meant to be.

Perhaps that’s where this disconnect occurred. I don’t NOT see myself in ten years. I’m just living each day as best I can, and continuously discovering who I am, that I haven’t thought about what my future looks like because I’m enjoying my life as it happens now.

And as I do so, I’ll discover things about myself and the future life I do want.

Like having a clawfoot tub.

Editing my own magazine.  

Owning a cat. (or two)

Living in a home with a view of the Bay.  

Sitting court side at a Los Angeles Lakers game.

And of course, to be happy.