Savoring Summer Spirituality

May 28, 2024

Summer days –and nights–stretch out in front of us. Many of us wait for these summer months throughout the long winter months and the sometimes indecisive days of spring. How often do we daydream in March about what we will do, where we will go, and whom we will see when Memorial Day finally leads us into summer?

Several years ago I led an adult forum about summer spirituality at our church. The following material is adapted from that forum and the guide book I wrote as part of that presentation. I invite you to consider how you might savor this summer season.

Before immersing yourself in summer activities, sit in a comfortable and favorite outdoor space where you won’t be disturbed. Close your eyes lightly, not tightly. Take a couple deep cleansing breaths and ask yourself, “How am I as I enter this summer season? What do I need now? Do I need rest? Change? Inspiration? Connection?

What have I learned during the winter months that will enhance these summer months? Is God directing me in a new or different way?

Consider the following themes. Which ones seem to shimmer for you? Which ones open your heart? Or challenge you?

  • Summer Spaciousness. In what ways does summer feel more spacious? How is summer different from other seasons? In what way is summer a time of rest and restoration? Is there anything that needs to be released, to be set aside?
  • Summer Senses. The senses are doorways into the holy and offer us opportunities to encounter God. Explore the senses–the tastes, touches, smells, sights, sounds of summer. What dazzles you? What sensual memories do you have of summers in your younger years?
  • Summer Simplicity. Summer invites us to discern what is essential. In what ways are summer days easier, simpler? If you travel this summer, can you pack lightly?
  • Summer Shifts. What signals the start of summer for you? What changes in your life during the summer? What do you notice about yourself in the summer that is different from other seasons? Where do you feel that shift in your body?
  • Summer Sacred Space. A sacred space is where you sense the presence of Spirit. Where are your summer sacred spaces–in the present and in the past? How do you create sacred space during the summer?
  • Summer Silliness. What role does play and silliness have in your life, especially in the summer? How does summer encourage you to “lighten up”? What memories do you have of fun and silly times?
  • Summer Stillness. In stillness you listen to yourself and to the voice of God within, clearing the space for new ideas, new connections, new deeper awareness. Where and when do you experience stillness in the summer? How does that feel?
  • Summer Stretching. Are there areas your life–body, mind, or spirit–that could benefit from stretching your perspectives, your ways of living and moving and being in the world? What physical activities engage you in the summer and how do they enliven and open you? Remember the summer activities of the past. How did they form who you are today?
  • Summer Celebrations. What do you celebrate during the summer? What are your summer rituals? In what ways do you celebrate the ordinary?
  • Summer Support. Where do you find community in the summer? Is it different from other times of the year? What support do you need this year? Who do you know who could use your support this summer?
  • Summer Sadness. As much as we look forward to summer, there can be disappointments–plans that don’t materialize, weather changes etc. How do you cope? How flexible are you? Do you have sad, difficult, or challenging memories of summers past? Is it time to let them go or allow them to transform into growth?

Is a new spiritual practice beckoning you or is summer a chance to adapt your ongoing spiritual practice? For example, move your prayer and meditation time outside. Practice yoga or T’ai Chi outside, instead of inside.

Here are some possible summer spiritual practices:

  • Keep a summer journal. Pilgrims carried a small book with them, a vade mecum, which means “go with me.” They wrote prayers, poems and insights in the journal. Write what you notice and learn on these summer days. Where do you notice the movement of God?
  • Practice visio divina (sacred seeing), which is similar to lectio divina (holy reading). See with the eyes of your heart. Pay attention to what shimmers, what invites you, what startles or amazes you. Perhaps commit to taking one photo a day and at the end of summer print your photos. Do you notice any patterns? Where did God appear to you?
  • Go on Meditation Walks. For 30 minutes walk slowly and silently. Stroll. Amble. Pay attention to your senses. Stop and linger when you are attracted to something–birdsong, the colors in a garden, the scent of freshly mowed grass. Be in the moment.

Other summer practices include extending hospitality to guests, gardening, walking outdoor labyrinths, spending time in nature, stargazing, cloud gazing, volunteering in a new way, learning something new, sketching or painting outdoors. Change your routine in some way and notice what opens for you.

Invite a loved one into a practice of daily sharing with each other a gift, an expression of God, noticed or experienced?

May the God of summer give us beauty.
May the God of summer give us rest.
May the God of summer give us joy.
May the God of summer give us inner light
May the God of summer give us what we need for healing.
May the God of summer give us a sense of satisfaction in the work of our hands.
May the God of summer lead us to amazing discoveries as we travel the inner roads of our souls.
Amen.
adapted from Joyce Rupp

What comes to mind when you think of summer spirituality? I would love to know.

Here is a post I wrote in 2023 about summer spirituality. https://wordpress.com/post/livingonlifeslabyrinth.com/2216

Also, the photos were taken in our glorious backyard. I happen to live with a master gardener!

Late Summer Thoughts

August 15, 2023

Have you noticed that gardens are looking frowsy –overgrown and perhaps even a bit weary of their own lushness? Many trees in our part of the world look tired. The greens are no longer fresh and new. The fading has begun. Some trees seem eager even to shed their greenness and lighten their load.

Even the rose bush on the path can no longer hold up its head. I’ve had enough perkiness for one season, it seems to say.

Well, it is late summer, after all.

As a child at this point in the summer I remember feeling, “Oh good, the summer is almost over and soon school will begin.” I was always eager for the first day of school. And the second and third and…

Now, while I love fall much more than summer and spring and perhaps not quite as much as I love winter, I am learning in my 70’s to not wish this time away. No matter the season. For who knows what next summer will bring or if I will have a next summer. What losses and changes will the months leading to next summer bring?

I’m learning, slowly and not always so steadily, to be here now. Now.

Now in spite of the heat and the mosquitos, the increased laundry and ironing, the dust on the tables when the windows are open, the bulging traffic heading to the lake on Friday afternoons, the empty pews on Sunday mornings as people vacation, the complaints about rainy weekends, and even the expectations we better have fun or make good use of this time because “soon it will be winter.” (Good, I think, but only smile and nod.)

I am aware, however, that my reasons for fall and winter yearning have become less. After all once warm weather ends I will no longer be able to sit in the Paris garden. Going places, even the grocery store, will take more thought and effort. How many layers do I need to wear? Is it going to snow today? Maybe I should wait till tomorrow. During those months, there is always the concern that a snowstorm may derail plans.

And recently, I heard reports on NPR about the upcoming flu season and what shots and COVID vaccinations will be recommended.

No, none of the strong preferences or affiliations with a season make any real sense.

Just be here now.

Whether sweating or shivering.

Whether hanging out or hunkering in.

Whether adding ice to a tall drink or chopping ice off the sidewalks.

Joy Harjo in her book about why she writes, Catching the Light, says to “Start anywhere to catch the light.”

No matter the season, I say, may I catch the light of a long summer’s evening or the passing of a firefly or even the glimmer of a new idea or clarifying thought.

May I catch the light as it glistens and glides over wildflowers on the side of the road or flowers picked from our backyard garden and now arranged in a small white pitcher on my desk or the light that wraps and warms families playing, resting or reuniting.

Mainly what I’m paying attention to these days, as I attempt to Be Here Now, is the light within. That happens more and more as I lighten the load of regrets and desires unmet and the “shoulds” expressed in the expectations of others or, let’s face it, my expectations of myself.

I’m paying attention to the light that comes from the spaciousness of God’s love and of Jesus’s way, encouraging each of us to lighten up and to enlighten one another with love.

That’s the kind of light that knows no season, knows no time.

What thoughts are you having during these late summer days? I would love to know.