In Traditional Chinese Medicine, late summer is recognized as its own distinct season spanning mid-August through the fall equinox. Like most times of transition, late summer comes with an underlying sense of trepidation as our warmest days are numbered and we brace ourselves to return to work or school and the routines that they require. In Taoism, the ever-elusive state of equanimity can only be achieved when we live in harmony with nature which makes this season — characterized by the earth element — the ultimate invitation to gather and ground.

Meditation, so I’ve heard, is best accomplished
if you entertain a certain strict posture.
Frankly, I prefer just to lounge under a tree.
So why should I think I could ever be successful?

Some days I fall asleep, or land in that
even better place — half asleep — where the world
flies through my mind in its
hardy ascent and its uncompromising descent.

So I just lie like that, while distance and time
reveal their true attitudes: they never
heard of me, and never will, or ever need to.

Of course I wake up finally
thinking, how wonderful to be who I am,
made out of earth and water,
my own thoughts, my own fingerprints —
all that glorious, temporary stuff.