Summer by Gaye Lindfors
Published Jul 9, 2026
“The summer is almost over!” (Exclaimed with a bit of tension and surprise.)
Have you been hearing that lately? Me too.
And every time I hear it, a tiny panic button goes off in my heart.
Wait. Did I miss it? Am I behind on summer?
Which is a ridiculous sentence, really. But it can still feel true, right?
Because suddenly there’s this pressure to fill every waking moment with something summery.
Get to the lake. Have the picnic. Float down the river. Attend the outdoor concert.
Soak it all in before fall comes marching in with pumpkins, sweaters, and Thanksgiving decorations that appear before we’ve even finished our lemonade.
I do love summer. And I don’t want to miss it.
(Floating, picnics, and concerts are great!)
But the next couple of months are not going to magically open up into endless beach days, weeks of lazy mornings, and long, leisurely lunches. Sigh.
There’s good work to be done. A calendar of commitments I want to keep. Projects I’m excited about. And just regular life that includes regular life things.
And yet … I’m not sure if it’s fear of missing out or that “you should be doing this” voice in my head.
But lately, the message keeps coming at me like whitewater rapids: Fill every waking moment with something summery.
Which sounds lovely. Also exhausting. And how exactly am I supposed to do that?
I needed to find a way to enjoy these summer months without pretending the rest of life was going to politely step aside.
So I asked myself a different question.
Not: How do I squeeze in the perfect summer?
But: What would feel like summer to me?
And almost immediately, I knew.
Walks in the sunshine and fresh air. Ice cream in a cone. Short road trips with Steve. Laughing with my sisters. Friend moments. Sitting on the porch, reading a book and maybe falling asleep with it open on my lap.
That’s it. That would feel like summer to me.
Not a complicated plan that includes everything just because. Not a “how I spent my summer vacation” to-do list.
Just fresh air. Porch time. A slower rhythm when I can make room for it.
And this is so cool — I felt lighter as soon as I named it.
I had been making “how do I not miss summer” much more complicated than it needed to be.
Maybe the invitation isn’t to create the perfect summer.
Maybe the invitation is to decide how we want the rest of summer to feel.
Rested. Refreshed. Present. Unhurried, even if the calendar still has things on it.
Your answer will probably be completely different from mine. Maybe your summer feels like eating supper outside. A dock, sunrise on the lake, and a campfire while noticing the fireflies. Five quiet minutes in the sunshine before somebody needs something. Biking that path, setting up the campsite, or paddling the canoe.
It doesn’t have to look impressive. It just needs to refresh you.
So here’s my gentle summer nudge for you and me: Let’s set aside the pressure to make the rest of summer perfect.
Let’s ask, “What do I want the rest of this summer to feel like?” Then create a few simple rhythms around that. Not perfect activities, but life-giving rhythms.
For me, that means fresh air, porch time, and laughter. And maybe a nap disguised as reading. That feels very summer to me.
Let me know what summer feels like for you!
P.S. Thank you to those of you who have found me over on YouTube! I’m still learning as I go, because apparently starting something new comes with formats, clicks, and a few “How do I even do that?” moments. But I’m so grateful you’re there.
Most of the videos are short, many under three minutes, and the Shorts are quick little nudges of encouragement. If you haven’t checked it out yet, I’d love to have you join me there: Gaye Lindfors on YouTube.
