I don’t have a favorite season of the year, but I really love the leisure of summer. The long days are perfect for enjoying extra time outdoors (although now that I am a mom, I spend a good amount of that time applying sunscreen to my exceptionally pale children). Perhaps what I love most about summer is the slowed pace; the calendar isn’t so full and it’s just a bit easier to be in the moment. And for me, as I imagine for many of you, the long and sweet summer days bring extra time for reading.
Every summer, I look forward to enjoying a number of different books: at least one piece of fiction I’ve been waiting to open, something spiritual or philosophical as I prepare for the High Holy Day season, and often a favorite book from another life chapter. Re-reading a favorite book can be such a gift: There’s an invitation to remember who we were when we first read it and also to learn something new, something we weren’t quite ready to see before. Last week, I opened my childhood prayerbook, Gates of Prayer, and enjoyed once more all of my favorite meditations and accompanying notes. This one stood out to me: