🌾 AUGUST CANNOT BE RUSHED

There are certain texts you return to year after year. For me, one of these is a short essay by Sister Valdesa, which contains a remarkably precise image: "August must be sipped slowly, like pear liqueur. Pour it into a tiny glass, take it drop by drop, and look at the sun through the glass."🍐🌅

Perhaps this phrase best captures the mood of summer's final month.

Every year, the same thing happens. As soon as August arrives, familiar phrases start echoing around: "Well, that's it...", "Summer's ending...", "Fall's coming...". And each time, I want to ask: why are we in such a hurry to say goodbye to something that's still here?

I think this isn't about August. It's about us...

Modern people constantly live slightly ahead of the present moment. At breakfast, we think about evening plans; on weekends, about the upcoming work week; in summer, about fall; and in our youth, about that time when things will finally get easier. We've become so accustomed to living in anticipation of the next phase that we've stopped noticing the one we're living through right now.

Psychology explains this quite simply. Our brains constantly want to plan the future—it feels safer that way. But this ability has a flip side: the more often we mentally inhabit "later," the less we actually live our "now." Perhaps this is exactly why time begins to feel so fleeting.

This is where the image of pear liqueur truly resonates with me. There are drinks that cannot be consumed in one gulp. Not because you can't, but because doing so would erase their taste. August, too, cannot be lived quickly. Its beauty reveals itself gradually: in the warm evening air, in the long sunsets, in the scent of sun-warmed grass, in the sweetness of ripe fruit, in a book you read without hurry, in a walk with no destination, and in conversations that unexpectedly become the most important ones.

Perhaps this is why Sister Valdesa writes that in August, the lips you love taste entirely different. And it's not just about romance. It's about presence. About those moments when we're fully present in our lives, rather than mentally transporting ourselves to the next day or the next season.

In the language of numbers, August also carries beautiful symbolism. In 2026, its archetype becomes Nine—the number of maturity, completion, and inner wisdom. But Nine never rushes the ending. On the contrary, it reminds us: before closing another chapter, it's important to live it fully. This is where its profound meaning lies. Not to rush ahead, but to be so attentive to the present that you won't later regret a life lived in haste.

Try living this month a little differently.

🌿 Don't tell yourself: "Summer's ending." Instead say: "I still have one more summer day."

☀️ Don't drink your morning coffee on the run.

📚 Leave a dried leaf or flower between the pages of a book—so it can remind you of this August one winter day.

👣Allow yourself a walk with no destination.

🤍 Hold your loved ones longer.

💋 Kiss. Not because beautiful texts advise it, but because some moments can't be preserved any other way—only by living them.

August doesn't like to be rushed. It seems to quietly remind us: life isn't made of big events, but of small moments we allowed to happen. These are what later warm us on cold evenings, like a dried blade of grass accidentally found between the pages of a book, whose scent unexpectedly brings back an entire summer.

Don't rush August.

Don't count how many days are left.

Better notice how many still remain.

And perhaps then you'll feel that happiness was never somewhere ahead. It has always lived in the present moment.

✨ Dedicated to everyone learning not to rush life and to catch moments of happiness.

Each of your 🌙 is a beautiful energy exchange that helps this space continue to live and shine.

Thank you for your resonance.

Ingrid 🕊