The Gift of Summer
Dahlia’s in bloom at Reynolda Gardens right here in Winston Salem, NC. Photo by Jamie East
A note on the solstice, abundance, and learning to linger.
Yesterday marked the summer solstice, the longest day of the year.
For a brief moment, it feels as though the earth is holding its breath at the height of its becoming. Gardens are overflowing. Hydrangeas bend beneath the weight of their blooms. Tomato vines stretch skyward. Fireflies begin to flicker in the evening light. Everywhere we look, nature seems to be offering proof that there is beauty in fullness.
Not the fullness that comes from doing more.
The fullness that comes from simply becoming what you were meant to be.
There is something I love about the way nature approaches summer. Nothing rushes. Nothing forces. The flowers do not bloom because they worked harder than the season before. The trees do not unfurl their leaves through sheer determination. The garden arrives here because it has received exactly what it needed. Sunlight. Water. Rest. Time.
And yet, so many of us move through life believing abundance must be earned.
We fill our calendars. We push through exhaustion. We postpone rest until the work is finished, only to discover the work is never truly finished at all.
When I think about abundance, I don't think about having more.
I think about noticing more.
Somewhere along the way, we've been taught to associate abundance with accumulation. More success. More possessions. More accomplishments. More things to strive for. Yet the older I get, the more I realize that true abundance often has very little to do with acquiring anything at all.
Abundance is waking up to sunlight streaming through the window.
It's sharing a meal with people you love.
It's a garden filled with blooms you planted months ago.
It's the comfort of a familiar home, a warm cup of tea, the laughter of a child, the companionship of a beloved pet, or a quiet evening spent doing absolutely nothing.
The most abundant seasons of life are often the ones where we become fully aware of how much beauty is already surrounding us.
Gratitude has a way of transforming ordinary moments into extraordinary ones. It shifts our attention away from what is missing and gently guides us back to what is present.
Perhaps abundance is not found in having everything.
Perhaps it is found in recognizing that, in many ways, we already do.
Summer reminds me of this every year. As the garden overflows and the days stretch long into the evening, I find myself grateful for the simple things that might otherwise go unnoticed. The scent of herbs warming in the sun. Fresh flowers on the kitchen table. Time spent outdoors. Moments shared with family and friends.
These are the gifts of the season.
These are the gifts that were here all along
That is why I find myself drawn to the solstice each year. It serves as a gentle reminder that there is another way to move through the world. A slower way. A softer way. A way that invites us to notice what is already here rather than constantly chasing what comes next.
One of my favorite summer rituals begins and ends each day in the garden.
Every morning and again in the evening, I take a slow walk through the beds, checking on what has bloomed, what has grown, and how everything is settling into the season. There is no real purpose beyond noticing. I wander among the flowers, admire a bloom that wasn't there the day before, check on the vegetables, and take in the quiet rhythm of the garden itself.
I always find myself stopping at my herb box.
Peppermint, rosemary, lavender, and especially holy basil, also known as tulsi, have become companions throughout the summer months. I'll rub a leaf gently between my fingers or pinch off a small sprig and pause for a moment to inhale its fragrance. The sharp brightness of peppermint, the calming floral notes of lavender, the earthy warmth of rosemary, and the distinctive aroma of tulsi have an incredible way of bringing me back to the present moment.
Within seconds, my shoulders soften.
My breathing slows.
The mental list of things I need to do becomes a little quieter.
Sometimes I'll gather a small bundle of herbs and place them in a tiny bud vase somewhere in the house. On the kitchen counter. Beside my desk. Near the sink where I'll see them throughout the day. As I'm cleaning, cooking, or simply moving from room to room, I'll brush my hand against the leaves or pick off a small piece to smell.
It's a simple ritual, but one that reminds me to pause and receive the beauty of the season.
That is what abundance truly is.
Not having more.
Not doing more.
But noticing more.
As we began creating this summer's seasonal experiences at The Tiny Spa, we found ourselves returning again and again to these feelings. Not simply what summer looks like, but what summer feels like.
Warmth.
Radiance.
Ease.
Abundance.
We chose ingredients that seemed to embody the season itself. The gentle herbal comfort of tulsi, long revered for its grounding qualities. The cooling sweetness of strawberry and rhubarb. The resilience of stone crop, a succulent that stores water within its leaves and thrives even during the hottest days of summer. Bright notes of yuzu that feel almost like bottled sunshine.
Each ingredient was chosen not only for what it offers the skin, but for the feeling it evokes.
The feeling of wandering through a garden in late June.
The feeling of sun warmed fruit picked at its peak.
The feeling of bare feet in the grass.
The feeling of exhaling.
In many ways, that exhale has become the heart of what we hope to offer here.
Not another thing to accomplish.
Not another appointment squeezed into a busy day.
A pause.
A chance to step away from the constant demands of modern life and remember what it feels like to be cared for.
To be present.
To be still.
To receive.
As summer unfolds around us, I hope you'll allow yourself moments of abundance in whatever form they arrive. Perhaps it is an evening walk. A bouquet of herbs gathered from your garden. An afternoon spent reading on the porch. A slow morning with a cup of tea.
Or perhaps it's planting a small pot of herbs on your porch or windowsill and allowing their fragrance to become a daily invitation back to yourself. Chamomile, lavender, rosemary, and tulsi are beautiful places to begin.
The earth is not striving right now.
It is blooming.
And maybe, just maybe, we are allowed to do the same.
In love & gratitude
Jamie
One of our favorite moments in the Summer Seasonal Facial is the foot massage with Eminence Organics Yuzu Solid Body Oil. Rich in Vitamin C and infused with the uplifting scent of yuzu, it offers a moment of brightness, nourishment, and ease that feels like summer itself.