The Last Quiet Days of Summer

Before the planners fill up and the pumpkin spice takes over, there’s a soft, golden stretch of time that belongs just to us. The last few weeks of summer when the air is warm, the days are long, and creativity begs for rest, not hustle. So today I’m sharing a gentle reflection on why these quiet days matter more than we think… and why it’s okay to pause before the fall rush begins.

[image error]A Gentle Reminder for Creatives to Rest

There’s something about these final weeks of summer that feels… a little wistful. The light changes. The cicadas get louder. The air turns heavy with a kind of quiet urgency. We’re not quite in fall yet, but we’re close enough to feel it coming.

If you’re anything like me, you might already be staring at a packed calendar, wondering how September filled up before August even had the chance to say goodbye. There are projects to finish. Newsletters to write. Books to revise. Events to prep for. All of it important. All of it exciting.

But lately, I’ve been thinking about the in-between time. These last golden days of summer that ask for nothing but stillness. The ones that whisper: Wait. Not yet. And I wonder… what would happen if we listened?

Not to the productivity planners or the emails or even the inner voice that always says do more. But to the late-summer hush. To the wind in the trees. To the sun lingering just a little longer on the front porch. What would happen if, just for a little while, we let ourselves pause? Not because we’ve earned it. Not because we’ve checked everything off the list. But because we’re human. Because we’re creative. And because creativity, like any living thing, needs rest to grow.

As a writer, I’ve learned that the best ideas don’t come when I’m forcing them. They come when I’m walking. Or cooking. Or staring out a window with no particular thought in mind. They sneak in during the quiet spaces. Those unplanned, unpolished moments I too often push aside. So maybe this isn’t advice. Maybe it’s just a gentle invitation.

If you can, take these last weeks of summer and give yourself permission to not create. Or to create only for yourself. Scribble in a journal with no plan. Doodle. Nap. Bake something completely unnecessary. Reread a favorite book just because it feels good. Let your imagination stretch without expectation. Let the stillness be enough.

Because fall will come, with all its deadlines and launches and fresh-start energy. But these warm, slow days? They only come once a year. And sometimes the bravest, kindest thing we can do for our work is to stop working. So here’s to the final days of summer. May they be soft. May they be slow. And may they give your heart, your spirit, and your creativity the rest they deserve.