"In each of us dwells a pilgrim. It is the part of us that longs to have direct contact with the sacred. We will travel halfway around the world and endure great sacrifices and pain to enter the sanctuary, whether it is a temple, shrine, cemetery, or library. This is the way that is no way, but a practice." Phil Cousineau, The Art of Pilgrimage

Yesterday I sat with my co-workers in our monthly meeting dedicated to stopping whatever we are doing and taking the time to share a treat, some time together and a few laughs in the midst of a busy work schedule. In addition to the fine chocolate and key lime pie yesterday, we shared memories of what we did in the summer as children. Since we all come from different parts of the country and span a few generations, it was fun to hear what those important summer rituals were. Bike riding. Swimming. Working on our tan.(We are wiser now.) Special resorts returned to summer after summer. Camps. Catching fireflies. Spending time with cousins, siblings and friends in a much more relaxed way and the freedom all that holds.

As I listened to those around the table tell of their summer escapades, I began to notice the ways in which their faces lit up. Smiles turned into glows. Wrinkles smoothed as faces took on the younger look of the story being told. Each face told the gift of a summer practice…..that breathing deeply, slowing down, openness of the walk of June, July & August. What was your summer childhood like? Can you remember the way the rhythm of the days changed from the structure of school to the laziness of going from pajamas to swim suit? If you don't have a vacation coming any time soon, I highly recommend the practice of remembering those summer days of running through the sprinkler, of sliding till your stomach hurt on the slip-n-slide as you wrecked the grass in your yard. Remember and tell some one.

I am not sure summers hold this kind of all out freedom they once did. We are so plugged in, so tied to work that many of us have created equally programmed lives for children. My children certainly enjoyed the camps and classes they took in the summer, the sports that shaped their days. But they also loved those times when the house heated up and the only sensible thing to do was head to the basement, turn the lights low, watch a movie, read a book, eat a popsicle and have the opportunity to drift off into a nap. Sounds good, doesn't it?

These warm, short nights, I can still hear the kids on our block playing baseball down the street. Many of them have been riding their bikes all over, hoping to find a little something to do at a friend's house or at the local coffee shop. When I see them, they have a very similar look on their faces as my co-workers did yesterday. Boredom with summer has not yet set it, but it will eventually. Right now, however, the muscles of school-focused faces are relaxed and their eyes are full of light and a certain kind of joy. I witnessed that yesterday as memories were shared.

Summer can be a pilgrimage. We can choose to walk in the way that is no way. With an openness to the gifts of sun, heat, light and enormous doses of green and color, we can change the rhythm of our living, creating a summer practice.. Sound good? No matter the enormity of the work that needs done, each of us can take a few moments to breathe deeply of the pure gift that is a summer's day. 

Ready. Set. Glow.