Welcome Summer
Image by Robert Lukeman
Today is a Solstice, another significant shifting in the wheel of the year. In the part of the world where I live (Northern Hemisphere), we celebrate the turn into Summer.
Image by Alexander Shustov
For me, summer has always seemed like a liminal space. An in-between time that invites a kind of slowing down – or at least a shifting from the regularly scheduled programming and performative expectations of the rest of the year toward something a little less hype-filled and rigidly structured. A time when cicadas sing, the days are long and hot, and the nights are bright and warm. A season of watermelon and berries, of peaches and eggplant and okra. Of backyard parties and family trips, of sleeping later and generally slowing your roll.
I realize that this sense for me may have mostly come from the fact that I worked in education all those years. Between being a student myself, and then a teacher, most of my life has been spent in the cycles of academic calendars and various breaks, summer being the longest (and most enjoyable) one. But even now that I’m no longer actively working in a classroom, I’m still drawn to the idea of summer break because my son is in the thick of that cycle. He’s in between school years, in between concert seasons. The demands on our time are different right now and I have to say, I love it. As our calendars invite us to take a purposeful pause, we tend to notice more, breathe more, BE more – even in the midst of this fiery time.
The cicadas are out in full force (we don’t see them mostly, just hear them), the birds singing at all hours. It’s bright when I wake up, and not fully dark when I call it a night. There’s a lushness to the flavor of everything, a sense of expansiveness where time is concerned. An invitation to a more languid way of living that somehow supports both productivity and nourishment. Summer is a magical time.
Image by Todd Kent
In the natural world, this time is all about patience and nurturing, about space holding. It’s the season where many seeds that were planted in the spring are in full bloom, and some are still needing tended. In some ways it’s busy, with the important work of growth and pollination. In some ways, it’s a little pause. An invitation to transition from the action of spring – with its foundation work and seed planting, into the nourishment of summer – with its slower pace and copious invitations to play.
This doesn’t mean work is not happening during the summer. It doesn’t mean expansion isn’t taking place. Life naturally seeks more life, but it doesn’t always have to be “work” or feel like a slog (you all know how I feel about the whole “it’s a slog” thing). In fact, SO MUCH can happen in the seemingly slower times. It’s in these seasons that we can go within, explore our own geographies of being and do some deep cleansing, dreaming and big picture thinking (bees and butterflies are still pollinating right now too). That type of vital exploration is ongoing in a well-lived life, but there are definitely seasons and moments where the invitation and pull for this type of inner tending is more powerful. The Solstices are among these times.
Today, as the light of the sun nurtures the Earth, we have the opportunity to enhance our own ability to be the light, perhaps finding new meaning in our journeys even when things seem uncertain. Even when we aren’t sure if the bud will ever blossom, or how long the blossom will stay open before falling to the ground. Cycles and rhythms are a part of life and this moment in the cycle, this season, is as important as all the others. The ebb is just as important as the flow. And George Michael had it right when he said, “I ‘gotta have faith.” (I love that song btw). Summer is a season of deepening the faith that what has been sown will come to fruition. It’s a gentle opportunity for expanding our faith in our life, no matter how uncertain some things may seem right now.
Here’s to slowing down a little. To letting in more light and allowing for deep nourishment. To celebrating what has already passed, and what is yet to come knowing that like the sun, we get to rise each day, no matter what life brings us.
Happy Solstice!