Restless for Summer

Is it summer yet? These days I feel like a restless teenager in the back of the family station wagon. I go outside every morning to check the temperature and observe the sky. I consult the weather app on my phone constantly for some hopeful signals of lasting warming trends. While I know that the solstice will not appear on the calendar until June 20th, graduation leis are for sale at Costco and neighborhood children are riding their bikes in the early morning hours. I am fooled for a moment into thinking that maybe the Earth has already rotated on its axis but with the gray skies ominously heavy, and the breezes chilly and damp, my faith wavers.

Even though “June Gloom” predictably returns each year to the coast of Southern California, everywhere I go, people are grumbling about the weather and cursing bleak reports of more cooling and possible showers. Remember when we used to joke that California weather reporters could simply read the same “sunny and warm” script every day? Not so now, after a very long, wet, and cold winter and spring. I am ashamed to admit this but I have joined ranks with the crabby as I scrutinize other parts of the country with envy. Tucson is predictably clear and hot. The East Coast enjoys an early warming trend. Even the Midwest is experiencing glorious sunny days with low humidity. My brother and his wife from Iowa just came for a visit and could not wait to get back to their idyllic eighty-degree weather. I wanted to pack a bag and leave with them! To circumvent the gloom, I ruminate about why summer is so symbolic and inevitably backtrack to childhood memories.

When I was growing up in small town Minnesota, summer meant freedom to come and go as we pleased, each day unplanned and gloriously spacious. We rode our bikes everywhere, including to “Recreation” at the local public school. The city sponsored daily youth activities for free: learning how to make crafts, sing songs, put on skits, play sports, and make a spectacular float for the annual “Pet Parade” at the end of August. Dogs, cats, chickens, rabbits, even turtles, were dressed up and pushed in baby strollers or wagons. Everyone competed to win a coveted blue ribbon. Kids decorated their bikes with crepe paper and wore costumes. We paraded down Main Street from the public library to the bandstand in Central Park where music was blaring and awards were announced. In the “Land of 10,000 Lakes,” we also went swimming in algae- smelling waters, had “weenie roasts” and s’mores over open fire pits on hot summer nights. Sometimes when the humidity was unbearable, my brother and I slept on our front porch!

For sure, there were plenty of thunderstorms and cloudy weather in the Midwest (not to mention mosquitos) but we just accepted these inconveniences as normal We would play cards and laugh like hyenas or read comic books with flashlights. Soon it would be cool and we would be back outside catching grasshoppers and fireflies.

All these decades later, It occurs to me that there is more going on with my present restlessness than the weather. Maybe these innocent, leisurely, but very full days are the objects of my desire. While I certainly have more free time on my hands, I yearn for “holy leisure,” the graced, simple moments that transport me into that feeling that “it’s great to be alive!” Sunshine and long summer days brim with possibilities for such mystical ecstasy.

Meanwhile, the quest for Divine Light beckons me to a higher level of awareness, one that is not ruled by weather patterns. When I distract myself too much in the moods of gray skies, I block the inner paths that stream the sustaining love of the Creator. So I go to the beach nearly every day to watch the waves and wait. When the sun finally burns off the marine layer and turns the water into sparkling diamonds, even for a few minutes, the inner warmth of the subtle spiritual summer flows sweetly through my soul.

Has summer returned within you yet?

For more inspiring reflections on summer, check out this podcast by my good friends at the Desert Foundation https://tessabielecki.com/reflect/going-against-the-grind/