I grew up an overweight kid in the suburbs of Long Island which meant the heat of the hazy and humid summers was something to be feared. I feared how my shirt would cling to my body, bring the cotton t-shirts to conform to the body I was ashamed of. More, it would remind of the extra pounds I was carrying.

Flash-forward to 2007 when i was back in NYC for a long four months in the heat of a miserable summer and I would walk from the subway to the office and would get angry with god.

Summer means heat.
Heat means uncomfortable.
Uncomfortable means miserable.
Miserable means whining.
Repeat cycle.

Today, as I now live in the San Fernando valley and on the first day of summer, it his a record breaking 112 degrees, I said to myself, I want to create a new relationship with the heat.

Then, I realized... this is a metaphor.

Come join me as I share my views.