The Summer Day(s)

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Wherever we live, summer time tends to push our biological clocks at a faster pace than during the other seasons. I certainly never seem to avoid the busyness that accompanies summer, and unlike many businesses and fairs that are booming around town during this time of the year, my blog closes up shop for three months. It’s truly a slow season here. And that’s okay. Although summer is busy and full of fun activities, it is also a season meant for relaxing and noticing. It’s a time to take life in at it’s fullest – even if its taking a deep breath in the quietest of moments.

This past weekend I spent some time in the garage going through some boxes that have been untouched since we moved to our new space in March. I came across a crate of various papers, articles, and business cards that I have been collecting over the years and found this poem by Mary Oliver, which I think captures the moment.  I am posting the poem mainly so I can toss out the paper, but also so I can remind myself to take time to soak in the rest of summer, not judge myself too harshly about how I spend my days–just as long as I am being present and honoring my one wild and precious life.

Good Summer Day(s) to you!

The Summer Day

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

The grasshopper; I mean–

the one who has flung herself out of the grass,

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,

who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down–

who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don’t know exactly what prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,

how to be idle and be blessed, how to stroll through the fields,

which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do

with your one wild and precious life?

~Mary Oliver~

 

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