June 20, 2023

After leaving “Paris,” our side garden and quiet, private space where I often enjoy lunch during the summer, and following the walkway to the back door to return to work time in the garret, this is what I see. Lushness. A multitude of colors and textures. Evidence of God’s creation, but also humanity’s creativity and effort.

I often say I am more of a winter person than a summer person, and that is basically true, but then I breathe in this beauty, thanks to the gifts of the master gardener with whom I live, and I think some part of me must be a summer person, too.

Perhaps acknowledging that I am more than one thing–that I am a winter person, a summer person, a fall person–is a reminder to continue the spiritual journey towards wholeness. To reach towards the person I was created to be, as my awareness of that whole creation continues to unfold.

Notice that I didn’t say I am a spring person. Minnesota often skips the spring season, going from snowstorm to heat stroke without the in-between of temperatures steadily and gently becoming warmer. The need for short sleeve shirts and open windows, along with a desire for trips to the lake, happens when our closets are still stuffed with winter coats, hats, mittens, and boots, and beds bulge with flannel sheets and heavy quilts.

Spring seems confusing to me, even irritating. I can do without the spring one day and the return to winter again the next. I have trouble finding a rhythm that works for me in the spring and spend time trying to understand what is basically unknown–as in “Is spring finally, actually here?” Probably not.

L. M. Montgomery, the author of the Anne of Green Gables books, once wrote , “I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June.” Is that a wistful statement; a statement wishing it was always June? is that mainly an awareness of the beauties of June or is it a desire for the status quo, a comfort with the ways things are in the moment? Or is it a statement of concern? What if nothing ever changed? What if we didn’t grow? What if life was one way and one way only? What would happen if I remained tethered to my younger self and didn’t grow further into wisdom?

If I am to continue to grow into wholeness, as I know in my heart, the Divine, the Holy, desires for me, then I am called to be a spring person, too. I’m not sure exactly what that means, but perhaps summer will give me some perspective.

The seasons change. Today is a summer day and tomorrow will be, too. but it will be one day closer to fall. Today I am 75, two months, and 6 days old, and tomorrow I will add one more day to that tally or, if the unknown and unexpected occurs, I will no longer be any age. I think I am beginning to learn during these elder years how all the seasons of our lives add up to the wholeness of a life, the totality of who we were given the opportunity to be.

I hereby declare I am a summer person. I am a fall person. I am a winter person, and yes, I am a spring person, too. And I don’t want to waste one day or take any day, any season for granted.

Bloom where you are planted.

Mary Engelbreit

So you think this is just another day in your life? it’s not just another day. It is the one day that is given to you…today.

Br. David Steindl-Rast

An Invitation

At the recent writing group I facilitate, I posed the following questions for reflection:

• What have you learned during the winter and spring months that will enhance these summer months? What do you bring with you from the recent months? What is unfinished? What do you need to leave behind?
• What do you need this summer? A change of pace and/or place? Rest? Inspiration? Connection? What is the call for this summer?
• What are your hopes for the summer? What is possible? What might the challenges be this summer?
• Is there a spiritual practice calling you or a new approach or intention for something you already do? How might you open more to the presence of God in your life?

Your thoughts? I would love to know.