Lost In the Heat of It All: A Melbourne Summer

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I was walking along the water in St. Kilda in the heat of a Melbourne summer when I thought it. My day off, cut-offs and crop topped. Accidentally buzzed off hard cider from the corner store on Acland Street, sun blazing on my golden turning skin. Lost, in the heat of it all. I knew it I was, and the thought crossed my mind as the lyrics played in my ears: 

lost
lost in the heat of it all
girl you know you're lost
lost in the thrill of it all 

nd it may have been the summer of Frank Ocean. But really it was the summer of new beginnings. A summer of growing up. Rediscovery. A summer of sweltering heat and newfound freedom.

A group of people swam together deeper in the ocean, and I ditched my clothes at the shore to join them. 

Never would I have wandered into the ocean off of my hometown coastline. Never would I be joined there by others doing the same. Never would I have then walked the pier, and done it all over again, making friends along the way.

This is what happens when you stop caring and start living.

I get lost in all the places I live. I become them.

Maybe some see it as running away, irresponsible . . . a little too bohemian. 

But I don't care. In this lostness I find myself, time and again. It's a funny feeling, when you know you are engulfed in a place, because you don't know a lot of things but you know you are attuned to your core. And that's all that matters. 

In that Melbourne summer I found my own rhythm. Between the season beat and heat I went deeper. Walls dissolved. Communication became clear. I opened. And only when I am open do I know that which my heart craves most.