Wandering Central Washington: The lost summer: Harvesting joy from disappointment

As summer slips away and autumn begins to weave its way into our lives, I’ve found myself surrounded by a chorus of voices echoing similar sentiments of frustration and loss. Friends and family members have shared their struggles, lamenting the season that was supposed to be filled with joy, relaxation, and memorable experiences. Instead, it feels like many have been grappling with illness, unexpected losses, relentless work, and the general heaviness that life can sometimes bring. The phrase I’ve heard most often is, “It’s hard not to pine for what summer should have been,” and it resonates deeply with the shared human experience of disappointment.

This feeling is all too familiar, and I am no stranger to the “what ifs” and “what could have beens” that plague our minds during challenging times. It’s a trap I’ve fallen into myself more times than I can count. In the whirlwind of emotions, it’s easy to get lost, wishing for an alternate reality where summer unfolded differently, where laughter replaced sorrow and every day was filled with sunlight and ease.

Among those feeling this sense of disappointment is my husband, whose passion for gardening has taken a hit this year. While I’m not a gardener myself, I can see how deeply his heart has been affected by the comparison between this summer’s garden and the vibrant, overflowing bounty he enjoyed last year. Every few days, he would voice his disappointment: fewer tomatoes, smaller eggplants, a general sense of loss that overshadowed the little victories we managed to achieve.

Compounding this sorrow was the stunning garden of a dear friend, which seemed to mock our own sparse harvest. Her garden was a marvel, bursting with an array of colors and flavors—a true testament to the joys of nurturing plants through the season. As my husband compared our modest yields to her lush offerings, I could see how the thief of joy, comparison, was robbing him of his own sense of accomplishment.

One evening, after weeks of listening to this cycle of disappointment, I snapped. The cumulative weight of our busy lives since the pandemic had left me feeling overwhelmed. Everything felt turned up a notch; we were expected to be constantly productive, and it was infuriating. It was then that I declared, “Some years are garden years, some years are house improvement years, and some years are just for getting through each day—and that’s okay!” This realization felt profound, a gentle nudge towards acceptance rather than relentless striving.

In a burst of inspiration, I decided it was time to shift our perspective. I cranked up some upbeat music, grabbed a box, and urged my husband to join me outside. Rather than fixate on what had been lost, we would focus on what we had—our garden, however small it might be. Together, we stepped into the warm evening, the fading sunlight illuminating the green of the plants that still held life.

With every basil leaf we stripped, each tomato we picked, and every eggplant we carefully removed from its vine, the mood lightened. The act of harvesting became a celebration of what we had rather than a lament for what we had lost. Each item we collected was a small victory, a testament to our effort despite the circumstances.

Once we had gathered our meager but precious bounty, we lugged our box into the kitchen. What followed was an evening of joy: washing, cutting, roasting, and canning our treasures. The kitchen filled with delightful aromas, and as we worked together, the disappointment transformed into laughter and light-heartedness. We might have only canned a dozen jars of sauce, but each jar was a reminder that our efforts mattered, that our garden still had value.

In that moment, we shifted our focus from viewing the garden as a measure of failure to seeing it as an opportunity for creativity and connection. It became clear that this year’s garden wasn’t a symbol of what we lacked; instead, it was a chance to embrace the process, to create something meaningful from what we had.

As the seasons change, I find myself reflecting on the nature of expectations and acceptance. It’s all too easy to feel disheartened by what didn’t come to fruition. We often set ourselves up with lofty ideals of how things “should” be, which can lead to a cycle of disappointment when reality doesn’t align with those visions. This year, however, I’ve been reminded of the importance of grace in accepting the ebb and flow of life.

It’s a universal truth that life is filled with ups and downs. Some seasons are fruitful, while others may feel barren. Yet within each experience, there are lessons to be learned and moments to cherish. My exploration of existential nihilism—the idea that “nothing matters”—has helped me navigate these feelings. It’s a paradoxical concept, one that emphasizes the significance of our choices while simultaneously acknowledging the insignificance of our struggles. When you embrace that “nothing matters,” it liberates you to find joy in even the smallest moments.

So, as we prepare to leave summer behind, I encourage anyone grappling with disappointment to reflect on the lessons of the past few months. No matter how your summer unfolded—filled with unexpected challenges, sorrow, or missed opportunities—there is still beauty to be found. It’s okay to grieve what you hoped for, but it’s equally important to acknowledge the moments that brought you joy, resilience, and growth.

Autumn is a time of transition, a chance to slow down, reflect, and recharge. Even if the summer didn’t meet your expectations, it can still be a stepping stone into a new season of possibilities. As we prepare for the coming months, let’s allow ourselves the space to heal, to appreciate what we have, and to approach the future with kindness—for ourselves and others.

In our journey through life, we often find ourselves walking through fields of uncertainty. There will be seasons when we feel lost or unproductive, but those moments can also yield growth and self-discovery. Just as gardens need time to flourish, so do we. The changing seasons remind us that life is a series of cycles, each with its own purpose.

Harvesting joy from disappointment is not just a lesson learned in the garden; it’s a principle that can apply to all areas of our lives. When we embrace the reality of what is, rather than pining for what could have been, we open ourselves up to the possibility of growth, resilience, and new beginnings. Whether it’s through gardening, relationships, or personal pursuits, the ability to find joy in our experiences—no matter how imperfect—will lead us to a richer, more fulfilling life.

As we say goodbye to summer and welcome the crisp air of autumn, let us carry forward the understanding that every season has its purpose. In this journey, we learn that it’s not about the quantity of our harvest but the quality of our experience. Embrace the lessons learned, cherish the moments of joy, and prepare to step into the next chapter with an open heart and a renewed spirit. Life is not just about the destination; it’s about the journey, and every moment contributes to the tapestry of who we are.