Everyone Is Summer Maxxing Their Body. I'm Trying Something Else.

Apparently, we all should be Summer Maxxing now. Honestly, I understand the appeal.

I’m all for feeling good. Take the walk. Lift the weights. Wear the linen dress. Use the serum. Book the lymphatic massage. Drink the protein shake. Get some sleep.

I’ve spent enough time talking about wellness to know that taking care of ourselves matters.

But lately I’ve been wondering if we’re leaving something out.

Because most of the year, so much of life is spent in logistics and the noise of the world.

What time? Where?

Did you RSVP?

Did you sign the form?

Did anyone actually read the form?

There are seasons where life becomes one long group text with errands and problems attached. And by the time summer arrives, I don’t necessarily need another protocol.

I need space.

After a few nights in Greece, I realized what I wanted this summer to be about.

Not becoming a brand version of myself.

Not overhauling my life.

Not adding one more thing to optimize.

I wanted to think again.

Really think.

About books. About people. About art. About technology. About our future. About the strange and wonderful ways we all make sense of being alive.

Which is very Greek, actually.

The Greeks invented democracy, philosophy, theater, mythology, and the deeply underrated art of sitting around a table for hours discussing absolutely everything.

They were Summer Maxxing before we had a name for it.

This year, we are staying in Greece with dear friends who have one of my favorite gifts on earth: they know how to build a table.

Not the furniture. The people around it.

Every night, there are artists, entrepreneurs, travelers, writers, academics, young adults, older adults, and the occasional person who casually mentions they are excavating an ancient fresco on a Greek island.

Which is how I know I am definitely not in the US anymore.

Last night at dinner, someone asked a simple question:

“What’s your favorite book?”

Not the smart answer.

Not the impressive answer.

Your actual favorite book.

Forty-five minutes later, we were still talking about it.

Which felt almost miraculous in a world where most conversations are interrupted by a notification, a text, or someone asking for the wifi password.

The conversation drifted from books to films. From films to poetry. From poetry to AI. From AI to whether we should be afraid of AI. The twenty-somethings at the table were much less worried than the rest of us, which I found either reassuring or deeply suspicious. I’m still deciding.

There was also a spirited discussion about why certain parts of Greece seem to struggle with wifi.

Someone suggested it was because of powerful energetic fields.

Someone else said the gods don’t want it there.

Is this scientifically proven?

Probably not.

Do I like this explanation?

Absolutely.

But somewhere between the books, the films, the AI, the gods, and the bad wifi, I realized something.

For most of the year, my conversations revolve around logistics. (so boring)

In Greece, they revolve around ideas.

And maybe that’s what I am missing.

Not just rest.

Not just sunshine.

Not just a break from the calendar.

Curiosity.

The kind that wakes up when you have enough time to sit, listen, ask better questions, and let your mind wander somewhere unexpected.

Maybe that’s the part of Summer Maxxing we don’t talk about enough.

Yes, take care of your body.

Please do.

Swim. Walk. Stretch. Eat the protein. Gua Sha like a maniac. Use the SPF. Hydrate like a responsible adult, even if your preferred hydration strategy is an Aperol Spritz.

But also take care of your mind.

Read the book. Tuesdays with Morrie, The Power of Real Optimism

Watch the film. Doctor Zhivago, The Jerk, Fargo, Deliverence. All must sees.

Listen to the audiobook. Yesteryear, Atomic Habits

Have the dinner conversation that goes nowhere useful and somehow everywhere important.

Ask someone older what they know now that they didn’t know then.

Ask someone younger what they think the future will look like.

Ask people what they’re reading.

Ask them what they love.

Ask them what scares them.

Ask them what they still hope for.

This summer, maybe the assignment isn’t to improve every inch of ourselves, maybe it’s to remember that we are allowed to be interested.

In the world.

In other people.

In ideas.

In beauty.

In mystery.

In the possibility that the gods are messing with the wifi.

So consider this your invitation to do as the Greeks do.

Think.

A lot.

Linger at the table.

Let the conversation wander.

Let your phone die for a minute and see if the world ends.

Read something that makes you slightly annoying at dinner because you can’t stop talking about it.

Watch a film that reminds you why stories matter.

Listen to an audiobook on the morning drive instead of letting your brain spiral through the day’s to-do list.

Because eventually summer ends.

The schedules return. The inbox fills up. The beautiful chaos of everyday life comes rushing back.

But if we’re lucky, we bring something home with us.

A new idea.

A new question.

A little more wonder.

A reminder that there is a bigger world waiting for us beyond our calendars and to-do lists.

And maybe that’s the real gift of summer.

The Greeks don’t have a word for Summer Maxxing.

They have something better.

A culture built around conversation, curiosity, long lunches, late dinners, and the radical belief that not every minute needs to be productive.

Καλό καλοκαίρι

Let’s have a Beautiful Summer!

xx -Sasha