Beat the Heat, Part 1

Finding Appreciation for Discomfort

The passing of Memorial Day Weekend is the official start to summertime, and the thermometer does not disagree. This past Memorial Day, I spent some time doing yard work, and I encouraged my son to spend a little time outside with me. It was scorching, but he was a trooper. When it came time for a break, we sat in front of a small but mighty fan, and I pulled a gallon jug of water out of the refrigerator. When I gave him a drink of that ice-cold water, he remarked how refreshing it was.

At that moment, my mind drifted back to when I ran cross country in high school several years ago. For me, a cross country race was a test of my endurance and a race against myself. I never cared about winning the race, though I realize that was the point of the whole thing. I always sought to finish faster than I did in the last race, which was still far behind the fastest runner.

When I trained independently, I ran 5 miles down some country roads, though the race was 3 miles long. Although these runs typically took place in the fall, they were often very warm. One August day, I ran 5 miles, and I remember sweating more than usual. When I got home, I went straight to the shower, hoping to wash the sweat off me. In my haste, I jumped in the shower before the water had warmed up, and the showerhead blasted me with cold water.

I know that there are dangers associated with pouring cold water on an overheated person, but this was at a time in my life when I still worked and played outside every day. I was not medically overheated, but I was certainly uncomfortably hot and sweaty. I can still remember feeling first the surprise and then the relief of that cold water. I reached for the knob and turned down the heat to make that feeling last a little longer - at least until my body temperature evened out and the cold became uncomfortable.

Sitting with my son, I was allowed to share the lesson I had learned after that long, hot run. I explained to him that the same water that tasted so good at that moment would have tasted like just another class of water if he had been sitting comfortably inside the air-conditioned house. Our desperate need for relief from the heat made the water taste so good.

A few years ago, I heard John Dau tell his story about being one of the Lost Boys in Africa.

He described being part of a group of children who lived on the run, often naked because of their hardships. Then Dau told about finally reaching a United Nations aide camp where they gave him a woman's blouse to wear, and he was never more grateful for a piece of clothing. He described his disbelief when he came to an American grocery store and saw that our pets had whole aisles of food in the grocery store.

After the talk, while waiting for the parking attendant to deliver the car, I found myself standing next to John Dau, also waiting for his car. He and his wife planned to take their five children to Peppa Pig World. Can you imagine sleeping in jungles, narrowly avoiding death, and frequently watching others not be so lucky, and then, years later, standing next to some guy in a polo shirt waiting for your car to visit a cartoon-themed play place?

I took my son to Peppa Pig World a year or two later. He loved it, but I saw excited kids running everywhere. Parents were bumping into me right and left as they chased their enthusiastic toddlers around. When I felt myself start to get frustrated, as I tend to do in crowds, I remember thinking about John Dau and what his Peppa Pig World experience must have been like. I wondered if the thing that annoyed me would pale compared to the joy he felt from living a life without realistic hope of bringing him to such a place.

As I sat, still in the heat, with this kid I chased around Peppa Pig World and so many other exciting places, I got the opportunity to talk with him about appreciation. Because we endured the heat together, I was given the chance to tell him why that water tasted so much better than it usually does.

When our wants become needs, then our ordinary becomes extraordinary. When our basic needs are amplified, the daily bread becomes a feast.

Meteorologists predict a hot summer this summer, which will create plenty of opportunities to complain and to be uncomfortable. I will try to remember that one key to beating the heat is finding things to appreciate. You can use catchy phrases like "having an attitude of gratitude," or you can resort to practices like mindfulness, but it's probably best for us to decide on a strategy now if we want to be happy in the heat.

I cannot say that I love mowing the yard when the mercury rises above three digits on the thermometer, but I am grateful for the chance it gave me to teach my son about the power of gratitude and the benefit of being uncomfortable. Sometimes, the only reward we will receive from our most difficult challenges is knowing how much better off we are for having endured them. While it was a good lesson for him, it was an excellent reminder for me. And now, maybe it will make your summer a little better, too.