Friday, June 21 is the Summer Equinox this year, the day the sun reaches it’s highest and northernmost point in the sky. It is considered to be the first day of Summer. It is also the longest day, and the shortest night.
Did you know that “Summer Resolutions” is a thing? There are all kinds of websites with lists of things to do/think about/plan in the summer.
But that isn’t what I think summer should be. I have great expectations of the season, probably left over from the growing-up years when summer was unstructured and mothers wanted us out of the house. I’m not sure that’s true for kids anymore. It’s wasn’t true then, and is not true now for adults.
But expectations still linger. “This summer I’m going to…” but plans wither in the hustle and heat, and die by August. Maybe I need something small, intentional and attainable. So here goes…
First, I will celebrate. Summer brings so many delights: sunshine, warmth, fresh produce, birdsong, lighter clothing, ice cream, the list goes on. This year I want to consciously, daily, enjoy summer, even if it’s not perfect. I’m not perfect either. (By the way, June’s full moon is known as the Full Strawberry Moon. Eating strawberries sounds like a great way to celebrate ‘summer – unless of course, you’re allergic! – since they are ripe and plentiful right now.)
Second, I will get out. It’s been years since I’ve played mini-golf, enjoyed an outdoor concert, gone to an amusement park, had a picnic. I want to add a some of that back into my life this summer. (Now that I’ve written it down, I have to do it, right?)
Finally, I will be grateful. Blessings come every day; I want to notice them and record them. I’ve spent past summers worrying about mosquitoes, skin cancer, and air conditioning costs. Not this year. There is always something to be thankful for. And there is Someone who deserves our thanks.
So welcome, Summer. I am so glad you are here! We are going to have so much fun together!
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So, after writing this, I sat down to supper and immediately upset a glass of milk all over the table. The wiping up process took so long that the food got cold. I ate my dinner, silently berating myself for my carelessness. But after we finished I remembered: there’s always something to be grateful for. “At least I didn’t break the glass!” I said.
“Yet,” remarked my daughter.