It’s still dark this morning as my eyes blink open with an alert and excited wakefulness. There’s an immediate flutter of interest and optimism for the day and month ahead. Suddenly I am a child again, stirring with the giddiness of June— school is almost out, the promise of the full summer days ahead swirls around me, and I can feel the freedom and potential that this time holds. Solstice is near, every cell in my body can feel the extra light, and the sweetness of it all feels so close and familiar.

I get out of bed and head directly to my chair over by the window where I sit most mornings. I close my eyes to take in the morning. Meditating early like this is something I would like to say that I do every day, but that wouldn’t be the truth at all. Yet today there is an undeniable pull toward it, an internal excitement to simply be with the morning in a way that I would normally fill by checking my phone, making coffee, and moving quickly into work, texts, emails, and all the other things that demand my attention.

This morning, I know without a doubt that I want to sit in silence. I begin the simplest way I know how— by opening my senses to sound. I hear my dog Cupcake's breathing—which is more like snoring—as she lies like a fluffy shearling blanket on the couch. I hear the familiar whistle of the train, which also brings me back to my childhood home. Then the peculiar, one-of-a kind sounds of my stomach gurgling. Then the faint sound of the sleep story my daughter still has playing softly in her room from the night before.

My heart swells to simply be with this feeling of what is here now— the felt safety and contentment, the reassurance that my family is near, that I am here with my dog, that I have the privilege of being with this moment. Wow.

The simplicity of being fully with the morning and the moment feels radical and perfect. Being here and now, in my body and my senses, with an open attention, feels like a portal. It’s thrilling and simple to be with the open invitation of it all. All the way here.

What does being all the way here feel and look like for you? This is your invitation for June. Not to become someone new, not to fix anything about yourself or others, not to push or pull for the next thing. But to return home to yourself with a relaxed and open state. To be in your body and touch the beautiful summer aliveness of the days ahead.

In Gratitude + Presence,

Holly