Summer Vibes - Chill or Crazy?

Exploring being a creature of Planet Earth - feeling the flow of a beautiful & busy summer arriving & allowing myself to be deeply in flow with the seasons (even when it's uncomfortable!)

Embracing the Flow of Life

Allowing yourself to be subject to the moods and changes of Nature doesn’t always feel natural in the modern world.

Between electric lights, heating and air conditioning, insulation, and bright blue screens to entertain us in any climate, we’re not dependent on the seasons in the same ways our ancestors were.

Life continues regardless of the weather.

Still… as creatures of Earth, our lives are intimately tied to the seasons, whether or not we choose to live by them. We are deeply affected by our environment.

When the sun shines we feel the brilliance of that light—around and within us. When it rains, we either mourn the overcast above or revel in the opportunity for release. When it snows we huddle inside, nursing the deep memory of ages past when that cold carried a mortal danger.

Our lives are never separate from Nature… but cultivating a conscious relationship with the natural world is something different.

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Allowing ourselves to be deeply sensitive to the moods of Mother Nature disrupts the daily commitments of modern human life, but at the same time, living closely with the seasons allows us to follow a more natural rhythm than that offered by the school year or the work load.

It offers a stability that is simultaneously utterly Unknown and deeply reliable. For me, it feels scary at times, but giving myself over to the whims and fancies of the seasons creates a vast reservoir of relatedness with Everything.

Everywhere I’ve lived, this has taken on a different flavor. Here in the wilds of Québec, resisting the song of the forest and the pull of the season is futile.

A Different Pace for a Different Place

Growing up in California life had a certain rhythm.

Summer was a time for rest and play, the world too hot to bear… let alone get any work done. In autumn we went back to school, and it seemed a natural time for busyness to recommence. Through the lightly frosted winter we wore our light jackets and buckled down to work, and in spring the spirit of play blossomed once again.

Growing into adulthood, this was the rhythm I understood. I never suspected it could be any different. (In California sometimes we don’t know what we don’t know.) I could not have been more wrong.

Here in the North, things are different. We have four distinct seasons, which don’t resemble each other at all.

In Winter, the world freezes over completely. The snow that falls in December melts in April. It’s a time of rest, when nothing happens at all. Nature rests. People rest. The whole world is quiet.

Naturally, it’s spring (rather than fall) when the world speeds up. Spring is a time of thawing and preparing for the rampant growth of summer.

Summer is sheer insanity. It’s a cacophonous whirlwind of activity as plants and animals race to pack in as much activity as possible before the forced dormancy of the next winter.

My little Québecoise baby out on the lake the summer after she was born.

The humans here are magnificent at joining the chaos. The sheer force of the seasons make it difficult to resist the pull of nature, and living close to the seasons has become part of Canadian culture and identity.

The first summer I spent in Canada flew by in a blink, racing from one camping trip or lake excursion to the next, until I could hardly hear my own heartbeat.

As fall fell, I was exhausted and confused.
Where did summer go?! I should be rested, not exhausted!

Without understanding the detailed nuance of the seasons here, it felt utterly wrong to me. It seemed like a human-made busyness, greedy with desire for summer activities. So for nearly a decade, I have quietly refrained from getting caught up Canadian summer.

For the past nine years, at the beginning of each summer, I’ve made the conscious decision not to let myself get caught up in the melee. While all my friends were running off to concerts and cottages, I was quietly sipping lemonade in my backyard with a smug smile. I always had time for the things I wanted to do most, and I finished summer feeling rested and refreshed.

But now, I live in the forest surrounded by wild things where the pull of summer is impossible to ignore. Suddenly, it is obvious that this busyness wasn’t human-made at all—how silly a city-dweller I ever was to think such a thing!

All around me the woods are greedy with desire for summer activities. The trees are growing at a break-neck pace. The bugs are ravenous and desperate. The birds are feasting and fighting over territory constantly. The world that was silent for so long has burst into song… but the tempo isn’t classical, it’s electronic dance music!

Accepting the Sway of the Seasons

There is no going back. I live too closely to the wild things now. They are all around me.

My forest-backyard is growing so fervently, it’s become almost impenetrable.

I know these trees, whose stoic calm beneath their new flush of green is barely visible. I can feel their rush and panic… their growth and excitement. They are utterly aware that their lives depend on their growth.

Accustomed as I am to a different pace, this energy is uncomfortable in my body. Yet I cannot resist what I am immersed in. I must adapt.

Sometimes sensitivity is built into the system, and sometimes it is a choice. The choice to go with the flow. The choice to feel, even when it’s uncomfortable. The choice to live in connection with the world instead of at odds with it.

This summer, I am allowing the season to have its way with me. It is only the beginning of June, and I am already sunburnt, bug-kissed, and tired.

But under my skin, I feel a deep satisfaction—a relaxation even—midst the busyness. Running from beach to playground… quick dips in the pool between activities… constantly packing new bags for the next outing… spending every spare second managing the garden… I am embracing the natural pace of the world around me.

In the quiet moments between, I stop and listen to the birds and frogs. The cars zooming down the highway on their way up to the cottage or out to the lake sound happier somehow.

The sounds of the world call me forth, inviting me to join in a sense of belonging… a deep knowing that we are truly in this together.

The seasons are something we all share.

Talking about the weather has a bad reputation for being small talk, but in reality it is so much larger than we are. It binds and connects us to each other and the living world around us. A permanent fixture in our lives, constantly changing and ineluctable.

Being present to the seasons is a Choice—the choice to embrace the reality that we are creatures of Planet Earth. When we Choose powerfully, we re-member the magic of who we are.

What does this season look like in your life? Will you Choose to let it in?

The Word

Down near the bottom
of the crossed-out list
of things you have to do today,

between "green thread"
and "broccoli," you find
that you have penciled "sunlight."

Resting on the page, the word
is beautiful. It touches you
as if you had a friend

and sunlight were a present
he had sent from someplace distant
as this morning - to cheer you up,

and to remind you that,
among your duties, pleasure
is a thing

that also needs accomplishing.
Do you remember?
that time and light are kinds

of love, and love
is no less practical
than a coffee grinder

or a safe spare tyre?
Tomorrow you may be utterly
without a clue,

but today you get a telegram
from the heart in exile,
proclaiming that the kingdom

still exists,
the king and queen alive, 
still speaking to their children,

- to any one among them
who can find the time
to sit out in the sun and listen.

~ Tony Hoagland