As a child, I looked forward to summer. When school let out, I took delight in all the sights and sounds of the season. Whether it was the cheers of a baseball game, the laughter of friends or the chirps of the crickets at night, summer was a time of celebration, playfulness, and adventures in the great outdoors.
Many of my summer days were spent swimming, riding my bike, or helping out with our family’s vegetable garden. The nights gave way to catching fire flies, eating my Dad’s homemade ice cream or star gazing with my cousins in search of the Big Dipper.
The calendar lets us know that Summer Solstice is here. It is the longest day of the year. The sun is at its greatest distance from the equator, so we have more hours of sunlight. The word “solstice” is taken from two Latin words, “sol” and “sistere” (The Latin “solstitium” means “suns stands still.”)
In her book, “The Circle of Life,” Joyce Rupp reflects on the heart’s journey through the seasons. Comparing the similarities between the season of the year and our inner life, Rupp challenges us to examine our spiritual selves in the context of the current season.
Describing summer as a “season of fruitfulness” and a “season of ripening and abundance,” Rupp suggests that our “interior summer” is full of light and growth. Similar to nature, light and growth are essential elements for our spiritual transformation.
“Our interior summertime moves us toward fullness and ripening. Perhaps reading a book helps us develop a fuller dimension of ourselves. A personal relationship might become stronger, enhancing our enthusiasm,” writes Rupp. “Our summer growth could be a retreat or a seminar that nudges us toward something deeper and more vibrant. It might be an insight from our journal or our prayer that stretches us, or the learned practice of stopping to breathe once in a while so we enjoy the now.” Growth is a slow, quiet work.
In the summer of 2004, my mother entered hospice care. Spending time with her became a focus of my summer days. I tried to help out as much as I could whether it was preparing meals or doing laundry. Every morning, I would peel a fresh peach for her to eat for breakfast. To this day, I cannot help but think of her when I smell fresh peaches.
What meant the most to me during those long, hot summer days were the times my family gathered on the back porch. I like the image of the porch as the “outdoor chapel” where families gather. On one particular morning, my mother and I sat on the back porch drinking our coffee. At the time, my two sons were young and energetic which stood in stark contrast to my mother’s slow pace and calmness. That morning, I remember the boys were quite active and I tried to get them to settle down. Aware of my exasperation, my mother turned to me and said, “You are a good mother.” Her words planted deeply in my heart. Something within me grew stronger that day. Those four simple words of light and hope nourished my spirit and still bear fruit to this day.
Growth is not easy to measure when it comes to the heart. It is a lot easier to note physical growth by the pencil marks on the wall, the bathroom scales or the outgrown clothes in the closet. We see growth in the garden when the plants grow large and bear fruit. But even though we may not see it, growth is also taking place in our hearts.
“During our inner summer, we know we are growing,” writes Rupp, “There’s a robust surge of spiritual vitality. We long to be faithful to our truest self. The desire to become more healed and whole grows stronger in us. During this time, we often sense the presence of divinity within ourselves and others.”
This summer, I am taking Rupp’s words to heart and listening to the “summer of my soul” and paying attention to “the dance of life within me.”