Slowing Down Summer

Summer has a certain kind of magic, doesn’t it?

The light hangs on a little longer in the evenings. The air feels thicker, warmer, a bit lazier. With school out and days stretching wide open, something in us starts to soften. We loosen our grip. We crave rest. We imagine slower mornings, slower dinners, slower everything.

But then real life kicks in.

The kids are home and the fridge is always empty. The days fill up with sunscreen, sand, mess, and noise. Travel plans, disrupted sleep, shifting routines—it all adds up. What’s supposed to feel like freedom can quickly start to feel... scattered.

Summer should feel slow. But let’s be honest—sometimes it just doesn’t.

So how do we embrace this season without letting it overwhelm us?

The answer, I believe, is rhythm.

Not a strict routine or a color-coded calendar—just small, steady patterns that help us feel grounded. Gentle anchors in the middle of all the looseness. Rhythms that carry us, not control us.

Appreciating the Beauty of Summer

We tend to think of fall and winter as the “cozy” seasons—marked by holidays, routines, and familiar traditions. But if we pay attention, we’ll see that summer carries its own quiet rhythms, too.

Watermelon eaten barefoot on the porch.
Sidewalk walks that stretch later than expected.
Unhurried breakfasts with the windows open.
Conversations that drift long past sunset in folding chairs.
Even the hum of cicadas, steady and low, becomes a kind of summer soundtrack.

These little moments might not seem structured. But they’re not random either. They’re patterns—seasonal and simplistic in nature.

They’re the slow, steady beat of a summer well-lived.

And the more we notice them, the more they shape us.

It’s easy to rush past these simple joys, caught up in the noise of daily life. But when we take time to savor these moments—to notice them, repeat them, and protect them—they become more than just fleeting pleasures. They become part of our rhythm. And that rhythm becomes part of our story.

What Summer Represents

Summer is often seen as a season of expansion.

There’s more daylight, more openness, more freedom to be outside. More opportunities to do, see, accomplish, enjoy. It invites us to spread out, to move slower, to soak things in.

But with all that openness can come something else: overstimulation. Overscheduling. A kind of exhaustion that sneaks in—not from doing hard things, but from trying to do everything.

We tell ourselves this season should be energizing, refreshing, joyful… but when we treat summer like one more thing to manage or “make the most of,” it quickly becomes overwhelming.

And yet, summer still holds the potential for deep restoration—if we let it.

It’s a season of possibility, yes—but also of presence. We can view summer as a chance to stop rushing toward what’s next and instead settle into what is. We can choose to revel in its warmth and protect its slowness.

When we stop trying to force every moment of summer into a structure, we start to see it differently. It’s not an “in between” season or even just a break in routine. It’s a living, breathing part of our year—and our life.

The goal isn’t to fill it, but to feel it.

To build gentle rhythms that support the way we want to move through these longer days.

Rhythms that give us space to rest, play, connect, and breathe.

Because when we learn to appreciate summer for what it is, it can become something more than we expected.

Tradition Doesn’t Have to Wait for Fall or Winter

We tend to think of tradition as something reserved for the colder months—holidays, routines, rituals steeped in nostalgia. But summer can be just as rich in tradition, even without the built-in structure of school schedules or seasonal celebrations.

In fact, some of the most meaningful rhythms are the ones we create ourselves—quietly, consistently, right in the middle of ordinary summer days.

It might look like:

A weekly “leftovers picnic” in the backyard
Morning porch coffee before anyone else is awake
Screen-free afternoons filled with creativity and calm
Friday evenings spent outside as a family
Simple, seasonal meals that don’t heat up the whole house

These rhythms don’t have to be fancy.

They don’t even have to be planned too far in advance.

But they do matter.

Because these small rhythms become more than habits—they become memories. They help us mark time, anchor ourselves, and find joy in the repetition. Over time, they become the things your family looks back on with fondness.

These aren’t just tasks.

They’re traditions in the making.

Introducing the "Living in Rhythm” Summer Series

If this description of a slower summer speaks to you, I’ll be sharing a series of blog posts to help you gently build a sense of rhythm into your summer days. Each post is practical and simple—just small steps to help you feel a little more rooted in this beautifully loose season.

This summer doesn’t have to be a blur, and it doesn’t take a full lifestyle change to start feeling more grounded. You don’t have to plan a picture-perfect season or check off a long list of memories. You just need a little space—a little awareness—to notice what’s already here.

Because sometimes, all it takes is one shift: