The Summer Pause - Permission To Slow Down

This time of year always seems to invite a pause—and lately, I’ve been listening to that invitation a little more closely.

Listening to the Call to Slow Down

I’ve felt a quiet pull to step back from the constant rhythm of doing. Maybe it’s the longer days, or the sense that summer offers us all a little more space to breathe. Either way, I’m learning to honour this seasonal invitation rather than push through it.

During a recent trip to visit a dear friend in Canada, I was reminded how nourishing it can be to have unhurried conversations, slow walks, and time that doesn’t feel rushed. We chatted and sipped tea at breakfast and cooked together without watching the clock. There was something so simple and grounding about it.

The Productivity Trap

But when I returned home, I noticed how quickly I slipped back into the habit of measuring my days by what I’ve done—and how easily I give myself a hard time when I don’t feel “productive enough.”

Sound familiar?

In my work, I see this all the time. That deeply ingrained idea that our value is tied to our output. That rest has to be earned. Even when our bodies are calling for softness, we often keep pushing—afraid that slowing down might look like falling behind.

What If Rest Wasn’t a Reward?

This summer, I’m trying to soften that inner pressure. To lean into rest, reflection, and spaciousness—not as a reward, but as something vital and necessary.

What if we treated rest the way we treat movement, hydration, or nourishing food?

What if space wasn’t something to fill, but something to savour?

For those of us living with chronic conditions, pain, or fluctuating energy, this feels even more important. Our bodies already teach us about different rhythms. The work is learning how to listen.

Small Shifts, Spacious Moments

Maybe you’ve been feeling something similar—the urge to do less and be more.

Here are a few small things I’m exploring this season:

• Micro-pauses

  Taking three deep breaths between tasks, letting transitions feel softer.

• Slower moments

  Choosing one thing each day to do with full presence—making tea, brushing my hair, folding laundry.

• Permission slips

  Literally giving myself permission to rest. No guilt, no explanation needed.

• Digital breaks

  Creating small pockets of time where I’m not reachable, just to give my nervous system some space.

Following Nature’s Lead

There’s wisdom in the way seasons shift. Summer might look like energy and expansion, but even at its height, there’s stillness—the quiet of midday heat, the hush between birdsong.

Our yoga and mindfulness practices reflect this too. Just as we adjust how we move depending on how we feel, we can also adjust how we relate to time, to rest, and to doing.

An Invitation to Pause

So here’s a gentle invitation:

What if this summer, you allowed yourself to slow down?

What if rest wasn’t something you had to earn?

Start small. Notice where you feel rushed and soften just a little.

Listen for what your body is asking, even if your mind is saying something else.

Remember—healing often happens in the pauses. In the space between one breath and the next.

Maybe this summer, we can practice meeting ourselves there.

Finding Your Own Summer Rhythm

What’s your relationship with rest and doing right now?

Have you been feeling that same call to slow down?

If you’d like support in exploring practices that honour your rhythms—whether through movement, yoga nidra, or mindful creativity—I’d love to connect.

Wishing you a summer of soft moments, unhurried pauses, and rest that feels truly restorative.

With warmth and slowness,

Natasha

P.S. I’d love to hear how you’re creating space to rest—what small acts of resistance to the culture of constant doing are calling to you right now? Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments or reply directly to this post.