I remember the first time an elder told me that joy was a discipline, not a mood. I did not understand her then. I was young in my walk, still believing that joy simply arrived or it didn't, like weather passing over a mountain. It took many summers, many fires, many nights spent listening to the land breathe, before I understood what she meant. Summer is not a season that gives us joy. Summer is a season that teaches us how to hold it. The Sun Does Not Apologize for Its Ligh

There's a particular kind of tired that hits in late summer, one that no amount of sleep seems to touch. The air is still thick and golden, the world is still moving at its high-season pace, but something inside you has quietly started to dim. If you're a lightworker, healer, or witch who has spent the year holding space for others through channeling energy, casting for clients, absorbing the emotional weather of everyone around you, this exhaustion is not a personal failure.