The Summers We Have Left
Mindfulness, Motherhood, and Learning to Let Them Become
This week my daughter finished fifth grade, and we stepped into another summer together. Each school year that passes subtly reminds me that the summers left before she is off living her own life are now fewer than the ones behind us. As I begin making plans for the months ahead, I’ve become more aware of how easy it is to build plans around my own wants rather than her actual needs.
Parents face this challenge constantly. We want to jump in and manage situations our kids may need to navigate on their own. Our fears about the future, or our desire to protect them from pain, can shape our reactions in ways that aren’t always about what they truly need in the moment.
Many of us want to give our children more than we had. We want them to have opportunities, support, and experiences we may have missed ourselves. On the surface, this is beautiful. But underneath it can sometimes pull us toward shaping them into who we think they should become rather than allowing space for who they already are.
It can be easy to lose sight of what they need in order to become themselves — not necessarily who we want them to be.
As a mom, mindfulness helps me notice this. The more I practice meditation and bring awareness into everyday moments, the more I catch when my mind is spinning in stories instead of seeing things as they actually are.
So much of life is filtered through perceptions shaped by our past or driven by our desire to avoid pain in the future. We build expectations, hopes, fears, and assumptions that unconsciously influence our behavior in every aspect of life — especially when it comes to someone we love as deeply as our child.
When we take time to understand these underlying thought patterns and emotions, we can begin to recognize where we may be making decisions not from our child’s actual needs, but from our own fears or unresolved pain.
As summer begins, my thoughts move in a hundred directions. I think about managing the amount of technology she consumes while also giving her space to rest. I think about helping her continue learning and exploring while also allowing her the freedom of slow summer days. My mind spins with ideas for memories we should make while also trying to navigate the reality of working while she is home.
And underneath it all is a desire to make the most of every moment before she takes one more step towards high school and beyond.
But when I can see these stories clearly, I’m less likely to get lost inside them.
I don’t have to chase every thought. I can slow down and return to the moment. I can look at my beautiful daughter and simply ask what she needs. How does she want to spend her summer as she continues uncovering who she is becoming?
I can remember the gift of lazy summer days from my own childhood and appreciate that it isn’t my sole responsibility to constantly entertain her. I can also recognize where boundaries are loving and necessary — like helping her create limits around technology so she can spend more time with the book series she’s excited about or exploring the world beyond a screen.
Mindfulness helps me pause long enough to consider whether the plans we are making are about fully living simple moments and enjoying summer, or trying to make something happen while I am chasing my own emotions.
If you are making summer plans, I’d invite you to step into the moment and create those plans from a mindful place. It may create a more joyful summer not only for your children, but for you as well.
Recently, my sister Heather and I launched a new podcast, Through the Grit. If this reflection resonates with you, you may enjoy our first full episode available on Apple and Spotify: Meeting Motherhood with Compassion and Presence.