A Hammock on an Iceberg

It's hot. I know that goes without saying, but sometimes it feels good just to say it anyway. It's bone-meltingly hot.

Summertime does have its perks, though – ice cream cones, swimming at the pool, watermelon, fresh tomatoes from the garden, peaches so juicy they drip down your face.

When I lived at Reevis Mountain School, on hot summer days we would take a dip in the cistern and then I would get on our old bicycle and coast down the path in my wet clothes – heaven.

One summer, years ago, I went to Baja, and it was so hot in the afternoons, I just collapsed into a hammock with a cold beverage. I was reading Ice!, by Tristan Jones, He was a sailor – born on his father's tramp steamer – who crossed the Atlantic 20 times and circled the globe nearly four times, all solo. Ice! tells the story of his Arctic voyage, from Iceland around Greenland and toward the North Pole, attempting to sail farther north than anyone had before, alone with his three-legged, one-eyed dog Nelson. 

In the middle of the trip, his boat got caught in an ice pack and he ended up stuck there for a full year, waiting for the ice to melt. The book is full of icebergs, cold winds, snow drifts, frigid temperatures, and the Northern Lights. Perfect for a sweltering summer afternoon.

Speaking of ice, the news anchor Diane Sawyer tells a story about when she first met Johnny Carson. If I recall correctly, it was at the Ascot horse races, and Sawyer happened to be seated right next to Carson. She was flustered and didn't know what to say. First, she blurted out, “You're Johnny Carson!”, to which he replied, “I have to be somebody.” Then she panicked about what to say next, and ended up asking him, “Would you rather die by fire or ice?” He said, deadpan, “Ice, it's colder.”

I love that story because it shows anyone can get social anxiety, even somebody who speaks every day on TV with millions of viewers. And it gives me a line to use at parties when I can't think of what to say.

But to get back to the point (being so hot makes it hard to stay focused), reading Ice! shows why I love books. When life is uncomfortable or difficult, you can read about something completely different. When you're melting in Mexico, you can read about freezing in the Arctic. When you're bored or uninspired, you can follow along with fantastic adventures. And when your life feels like a little too much, you can immerse yourself in someone else's troubles, and put your own out of your mind for a while.

You don't even have to have a book, though – because you always have your own imagination and memory. You can go back in time to when things were different (a vacation in the mountains, for example), or imagine forward to when things will be, or could be, different. Skiing in the Alps, or trekking in Nepal, say. You don't have to stay trapped in the here and now.

I had a teacher in high school who required every student to memorize poems and recite them in front of the class. She said it was in case we were ever in prison and needed something to do to pass the time – I guess she meant we could have recited our poems to each other. 

Hard to imagine that happening, but life itself can feel like a prison cell sometimes. And books – and imagination itself – are like a fourth dimension, a place you can go when you can't go left, right, up, down, backward, or forward. Books and imagination and memory enable you to go inward and outward – or backward and forward in time.

Some people call reading escapism, but I beg to disagree – it isn't escapism to open your mind to a wider world, bigger perspectives, and marvelous possibilities, going beyond what's right around you. 

Reading can remind you you're not the only one sweating it out — or stuck in the ice.

Sometimes I wonder if reading about cold places actually cools the body, even just a little. I used to think this was just my imagination, but it turns out it might be true. Neuroscientists have found that when you imagine something vividly, your brain often reacts as if it’s really happening. The same brain circuits light up — the sensory cortex, the motor cortex, even the parts that regulate temperature and pain.

Scientists have found that when people imagine themselves doing workouts, their muscles actually grow, and when stroke patients practice walking in their imagination, their balance and walking skills improve.

It’s miraculous, when you think about it — that just by picturing something, you can shift your physical state. That the mind, with no snow in sight, can conjure a chill. That’s not escapism. That’s the power of the imagination.

Which means that if you're deeply engrossed in a story about frostbite, ice floes, and snowy wind, your brain might actually start to believe you’re cold.

Not that I’m giving up on iced drinks or strategic fan placement — I’m not that enlightened. But until the weather cools off, I'll also be grabbing a book – my A/C for the soul.

And maybe another peach. Possibly eaten directly in front of the refrigerator.