Dear Sweet Summertime,
The ease of waking up and the welcoming presence of a new day give me peace.
The freedom of laying in bed for way longer than necessary and no pressure to get up at a certain time.
The collection of colorful mugs of cold brew each morning, not those evil travel mugs and their symbols of hurry and busyness.
No make up, no hair brushing, and no contacts for as long as I want.
The uncovering of emotions that I forgot I had because it was nestled safely underneath the more glaring issues of children and parents and learning.
The space in you brain to adequately reflect on the other areas of my life, such as the church group I lead.
The slow walks with Franklin and the quiet mornings watching him on the patio bark on birds.
The energy to enter hard conversations and let it take up my entire brain space.
The capacity to love others with greater awareness and intentionality.
The blank white space on my google calendar.
The quiet music playing from speakers filling the living room and dining room with its’ melodies.
Slow and careful handwriting across pages of journals writing whispers of prayers, shouts of joy, hidden dreams, and anything else that I want.
Hot summer afternoons spent by the pool with a good book and the smell of sun screen.
Vacations spent connecting with my husband and the memories to be made.
Sand between my toes, rhythms of ocean waves crashing with no plans of stopping, and a summer rain shower that makes sure you know there’s no such thing as a perfect day–but it was pretty close to perfect.
The constant process of relearning to relax, slow down, be still, and be present in each moment.
Summer, these are the reasons I love you.
But, I know you can’t stay forever.
Just, please go slowly.