The lingering sense of summer

Here in Melbourne, we are in Late Summer, a time of sunshine and plenty. This incredible life sized artwork by Carolyn Hillyer represents the energy of this season (you can visit her page to find out more):

How does the season feel for you? How do you usually feel when things are ending? past their peak? When it is time to reap what you sowed? to sacrifice what has been for what is to come?

I feel relief that the intensity of summer is over, that the days are getting shorter, and the peace of cool mornings and dark evenings is coming. And also, there is a sense of wanting to linger, to hold onto the taste of summer just a little longer.

In 2023 I am focusing on contentment. For me, this often means coming to my senses (which I have written about before). So this month I have literally been slowing down to notice what I enjoy through each of my five senses:

• the sound of the school bell and children's voices carried on the wind when I stand in our backyard. Makes my heart ache with love knowing my daughter is there, so close, living her own life.
• the sight of all shades of yellow, from lemon to marigold to amber. Brings my Leo inner sun to life.
• the subtle warm smell of the honey scented hand cream I'm using. Connects me to ancestral traditions of using honey in multiple ways.
• the taste of a sun warmed strawberry straight from the garden. One of the sweetest experiences of summer I am savouring.
• the silky feel on my skin of magnesium salts dissolved in bath water. I never get over how slippery it feels; what a strange and wonderful chemical reaction.

Contentment is not only about noticing what I already enjoy, but intentionally choosing things that please me, just because. So in the spirit of lingering summer I have been spending an extra ten minutes in bed in the mornings so my daughter and I can hug and chat and wake up gently.

I have been saying yes to more parties than usual, so I can dance, and have meandering conversations with old friends, and walk around at night seeing the stars and smelling the scent of hot concrete and summer gardens.

And I have been wearing yellow more often to evoke the inner glow of contentment and abundance.

This doesn't mean everything is perfect all the time. There is often grief in letting go what was wonderful to start something new. It is a practice to feel even a small sense of contentment, and sharing it with you helps me stay present and keep practicing.

Until next month, much love,

Emily