Into the Light — Reflections for a New Season
Summer holds restless memory. Some days I rotted on the floor of my room, staring at the ceiling fan, waiting for the moment to capture my favorite song on the radio for some mixtape.
Others, I lay supine on the manicured lawn under a tree that no longer stands. I stared at the clouds in between branches, deciding if they were a bunny or a monster. Idly, I plucked grass blades, ripping them at the seams like the string cheese packed in sack lunches. Even today, I can conjure the sun’s heat on my face, the way I’d raise a hand to shield it. I can hear the backing soundtrack of my sisters laughing, the sprinklers spitting, the cicadas humming.
School-age summers taught me boredom.
When was the last time I was bored?
Back then, my mind weaved its way in and out of thoughts, ordinary and strange. The mosquitoes swallowed me; the heat evaporated me. I gave way to them. I imagined myself shedding, composting in the Earth’s crust. I pictured how I’d reemerge in the fall; I’d be someone new. I’d leave behind the remnants of the grade before.
Time was marked by repetition — Sundays in the church pew, the 4th of July going boom, some road trip, scattering sunflower seeds, watching them bloom. The rest blurred into daydreams, running through the woods or inhabiting books.
I was idle. I was restless. I was boredom personified.
It’s been decades since those Summers, but I still feel the rhythm of their pull. I feel the ache to let go of what’s happened, what’s stagnant, what’s holding me back. I feel the ache to melt into the Earth’s crust. I feel the ache to frolic barefoot in the grass. I feel the ache to empty my mind — staring at the ceiling, staring at the sky.
Summer lulls me in; it symbolizes new beginnings and nature’s abundance. Sun-drunk days and humidity-soaked evenings usher in reflection, release, and renewal. It’s the perfect moment to burn what’s no longer needed and set intentions for what’s to come.
So, I cobbled together relics from my journals to craft the following reflection questions, should they help unearth the next version of you.
Reflections for the Golden Stretch
Ripeness & Release
- What’s come full circle lately — something you can finally wrap up, celebrate, or let go of?
- What no longer feels aligned, even if it once felt sweet or nourishing?
- What are you clinging to out of habit, not desire?
Rebirth & Becoming
- What’s something true about you that you haven’t had space to express?
- What would you try if you trusted your timing?
- What rhythms or rituals help you feel alive in the warmth of summer?
Memory & Meaning
- What summer memory holds unexpected wisdom or ache?
- What did your younger self love about this season? What did they long for?
- When did you last feel like yourself, fully and deeply? What do you remember about the scene — place, scent, sound, people?
Here are the bits and pieces from my reflection.
In this season, I’m soft. I don’t rush what’s unfolding. Like my sunflowers, I’ll bloom at my natural pace. I’m in a state of becoming, even if it’s hidden by layers of heat and mosquitoes. Eventually, I’ll give way to the freshness of Fall.
In the meantime, I’ll be bored. I’ll be basking. I’ll be brewing.
XoXo,
Courtney
Hi, I’m Courtney. I’ve spent over a decade in tech companies as a Head of People and startup fixer, working directly with founders. My founders have been featured in Fast Company, Fortune, Inc., People, and more.
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