It’s been quiet in these parts lately. It seems fitting to return to this scene on the heels of the Feast of St. Benedict–the day, celebrated in part by the blessing of bee hives.
Friends, if summer is a feast for the senses, then July is my jam.
The following is a smattering of what I love about summer, and goodbye to 33.
With the 4th, my birthday and wedding anniversary in rapid succession, I’ve adopted the Secret Life of Bees‘ ‘calendar sisters’ mentality about this most coveted month. I feel the same affinity for July as August feels toward the month of her birth.
“August tore the July page from the wall calendar that hung by her desk in the honey house. I wanted to tell her that technically it was still July for five more days, but I figured she knew already. It was a simple case of her wanting July over with so she could start into August—her special month. Just like June was June’s month and May belonged to May.
August had explained to me how when they were children and their special month came around, their mother excused them from household chores and let them eat all their favorite foods—even if it wrecked their teeth–and stay up a full hour later at night doing whatever their heart desired. August said her heart desired to read books. So the whole month she got to prop herself up in the quiet of the living room and read after her sisters went to bed.
To listen to August talk, it had been the highlight of her childhood.”
-Sue Monk Kidd
I write less, stay up later, rotate between approximately three t-shirts and commit to as few responsibilities as possible, because August (AUGUST!) will come, regularly-scheduled life begins again and this time is no longer my own.
(A little dramatic, but mostly true).
I intended to come up with some reflective piece on this past trip around the sun, but wouldn’t you know, time got away from me and I’m already jumping into the next one–but in all the ways I want to. Here’s to keeping up with these truths that feed my soul–and maybe yours, too.
Being overtaken isn’t a bad thing
So, rather than committing to any sort of consistent practice (like, writing) I let myself be overtaken by the many beautiful little things as come along. Mostly this includes being very observant–like noticing our chickens have started laying eggs. Rather than instinctively laying in their nesting box, it has become like search and find to discover the creative places in our yard where eggs are left behind. Or, the beehive so full of honey that it’s surpassed the weight of my firstborn child; our apple trees that were untouched by spring frost this year and are–for the first time–bearing fruit! The zinnia seeds that we plucked and dried last fall, are blooming again in bright red, golds, pinks and oranges.
Making beauty is intentional and strenuous work
Making beauty, like jam out of fresh strawberries is steamy, sticky, messy work. It is also worth it. And, finally putting those gifted patio stones to use (and perhaps working off some time in purgatory) by digging out our old patio in preparation for the beauty that will be when we finish this project during this record-setting heat, is at its core, an attempt to bloom where we are planted. Given that this effort has been one we’ve taken on as a couple, there is a lot to be said about the gift of doing hard things, together, and enjoying the fruits of those labors in tandem as well.
Always be reading
July has also meant reading. I have re-visited Anne of Green Gables this summer, along with my annual trek through the Secret Life of Bees, and I’m currently nurturing my introverted heart by reading, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can’t Stop Talking. This and participating in a Novena for Faithful Citizenship as the horrors of current events threaten to overwhelm my beating heart, have been nurturing and reinforcing what is good in the world and the possibility of distinct goodness each life is to the world.
So, thank you for bearing with me in the silence as I re-fuel–whether or not July is your particular jam, I hope you are finding joy in it and passing it on.