Happy Summer Solstice to Us
Sure, the calendar tells me it's officially summer, but so do all these other things.
Good morning!
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Yesterday was summer solstice, and my gosh, doesn’t it feel good?
Sure, the calendar tells me it’s now officially summer, but it’s the 16 hours of daylight and the ever-present scent of wild grasses, roses, and lavender—all of which begin to smell kind of toasty after a long soak in the afternoon sun—that tells me it’s summer, too. It’s the boisterous birdsong starting, it seems, not long after bedtime, and it’s the sun waking me up instead of my alarm, and it’s the lazy cumulus clouds and the brilliant sunsets that take their sweet time.
It’s the low chatter of folks on late evening walks and it’s the laugher spilling out from someone’s yard or rooftop gathering. It’s the way dusk settles in, and the birds are still saying their goodnights before total darkness descends. It’s early morning walks with a coffee in hand, and a Saturday morning spent on the porch with a novel you can’t, and don’t, want to put down. It’s the smell of sunscreen mixed with body odor mixed with salt water, and it’s breeze-dried hair. It’s my cravings for the juiciest, crunchiest, and ripest summer fruits and vegetables, but also for s’mores and smash burgers and grilled corn on the cob.
It’s people who become more liberal with their delight and more generous with their joy. It’s the feeling of winter’s cobwebs and chill being cleared out of my brain, making everything feel lighter and warmer. It’s my body feeling more limber and maybe even a bit invincible. It’s less pressure and more ease; it’s less stiff and more playful, but it’s also impatience—for more leisure, less responsibility, and minimal drudgery.
And of course, it’s the anxious feeling that we won’t be able to squeeze enough juice out of the season before it runs out; there’s always more, more, more to do—but never enough time. We experience the year’s longest days, and we ask: can’t they just be longer? Maybe this is our collective failure at being present, at being okay with what we can experience in the time we have and within the confines of our lives. But who can blame us? We’re captivated by summer’s bounty, and it feels far too lovely to let it pass us by. We’re working on it.
All these things, and much more, tell me it’s summer. And what a great place to be.
I truly love every season in its own way, but as someone who chases the sun as much as possible, I just can’t get enough of summer in the Pacific Northwest.
At the beginning of every season, I jot down several things I want to do over that period. Not only is it fun to look forward to the months ahead, but the list usually puts in clear focus how I value spending my time, and whew, do I need that reminder sometimes. My sense is that if you give yourself 10 minutes and a pen to write down what you want to do this summer—and maybe, how you want to feel—you’ll get a very clear answer about what and who is important to you in this season of nature and of life. It helps sift through all the brain clutter to highlight what we care about. I think we could all use a little help with that.
So, if you have a few minutes, grab a piece of paper, the back of envelope, a napkin, whatever surface allows ink to permeate. Think about your favorite aspects of the season, and then jot down a few answers to this question:
What joyful moments do you want to make time for this summer?
And if you’re feeling extra thoughtful, maybe: How do you want to feel this summer?
Don’t overthink it. Just write down what comes to mind. And once you do, tuck that piece of paper somewhere safe, or take a picture of it on your phone, and come back to it once a week or so, and see how you can make time for the things you know you love or want to try, and most importantly, for how you want to feel.
I hope the sun is warm where you are today, and that you can go out and enjoy it.
Until next week,
Elizabeth
So beautifully written! Thank you .