Hello, friends, and welcome to July!
When I think about this month, I mostly think about sunshine.
My kids are finally old enough to mostly understand why the sun stays out later in the summertime, but I spent years arguing with them about when they needed to go to bed. “But it’s not dark out!” “I don’t care!” (I’m always full of gentle, wise responses.) This summer, we’ve just taken to letting them stay up later than normal. Let the record reflect: I am not happy about it. Every night around 7:00, I look at the clock and think, “Isn’t it bedtime?” Sometimes I even say it aloud, and my husband has to remind me our children are no longer toddlers. Sigh. But the other day, this led me to think about what it really means to be awake.
I am a textbook Enneagram 9, and wise Enneagram teachers will tell you that nines have a tendency to “fall asleep to themselves.” I think I’ve spent the first half of my thirties learning what it means to stay awake. It is too easy for me to go through the motions, to attend to whatever is right in front of me while missing what it most important.
Our African-American siblings have long been talking about this, using the word “woke” to denote the value in staying awake to injustice and inequity. It didn’t take too long for other factions to make it pejorative, sarcastic, an insult. And this week more than many, I am so, so tempted to slam the laptop shut, put my fingers in my ears, and say, “la la la, I’m not listening,” to politics and everything else.
But I don’t want to sleep through it at all. Truly—who does? I’ve learned what Brené Brown teaches, which is that to numb ourselves to the “bad” also diminishes our capacity to experience the good.
On that note…
A benediction for July 2024:
May we accept each long day as an invitation to become more awake to our lives. May we notice the behaviors that allow us to look away (scrolling, drinking, working…), and use those moments as opportunities to get curious.
What we we willing to know?
What are we willing to experience?
What are we willing to see?
When something becomes illuminated—whether because of our own growth, by a friend’s gentle correction, or under the light of the sun—may we not close our eyes too quickly. May we be more willing to see what must be witnessed.
May God give us the wisdom and clarity to know where our attention is needed and what might be ignored, and may this clarity renew our energy, our determination, and our joy.
Amen.
Beautiful!