The Secret Gift of Summer

When I was little, my older sister used to play schools with me.

She was the teacher, obviously.

One day she made me learn a poem by heart. More than fifty years later, I can still recite it.

In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candlelight.
In summer, quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.

I remember objecting strongly.

Not because I disagreed with the poem's sentiments, but because I agreed completely.

I didn't want to go to bed when it was still light. There was playing to be done, things to discover and adventures to have. It felt deeply unfair that bedtime should arrive before the day had properly finished.

And you will be unsurprised to read that not much has changed.

I still want to play.

These days I get up at 5am every morning. I love the hours before I see another living soul. I love the quiet and the solitude. I love the feeling that while most of the world is still asleep, I've already begun living my day.

There's a part of me that feels as though I'm expanding time.

Stealing extra hours from life.

Summer does something similar.

I still wake up early. I still meditate. I still enjoy those peaceful mornings.

But now the evenings stretch too.

Suddenly there is time after dinner. Time for a walk. Time to sit outside. Time to meet friends. Time to watch the sunset. Time to say, "Let's stay a bit longer."

The clock insists the day is ending.

The light suggests otherwise.

And something shifts in us.

We become a little more spontaneous. A little more adventurous. A little more willing to follow an impulse.

Perhaps that's why summer feels different.

Not because the days are perfect.

Not because the weather is guaranteed.

Certainly not because life becomes easier.

But because for a few precious weeks each year, it feels as though we've been given a little extra life.

A few extra hours.

A little more room to breathe.

A little more room to play.

I notice it every year.

People stay after yoga for a chat instead of rushing home. Someone suggests a walk after work. A friend calls and says, "Fancy a dip?" and somehow the answer is more likely to be yes.

The opportunities were probably there all along.

Summer just makes them harder to ignore.

So here's my question.

What will you do with it?

What have you been meaning to do when you "have more time"?

Who have you been meaning to see?

Where have you been meaning to go?

What small adventure have you been putting off?

What game haven't you played?

What sunset haven't you watched?

What swim haven't you taken?

Summer won't last forever.

But while it's here, perhaps the invitation is simple:

Use the hours.

Stay a bit longer.

Say yes a bit more often.

And don't go to bed too early.

After all, there might still be some playing left to do.