August: Lammas. Harvesting the Small Wins.
There is something about August that invites us to pause.
There is something about August that invites us to pause.
The days are still long, the garden is giving generously, and everywhere you look there are signs of things that have been quietly growing for months. Runner beans that seemed impossibly small are suddenly taking over the vegetable patch. Tomatoes are ripening. Flowers are beginning to fade. The first signs of autumn are appearing, even though summer is still very much here.
Traditionally, Lammas, celebrated around the beginning of August, marks the first harvest. It is a moment to gather what has grown and to recognise that the work of the earlier months is beginning to bear fruit.
And perhaps there is something useful in borrowing that idea for our own lives.
What have you grown?
We often measure ourselves by the things that are still unfinished.
The conversation we haven't had.
The boundary we still find difficult to hold.
The confidence we wish we had.
The job we haven't applied for.
The relationship we haven't worked out.
The version of ourselves we think we should have become by now. The shoulds, the woulds, and the coulds are many.
Our attention naturally seems to drift towards what is missing.
But what if, for a moment, we turned our attention towards the harvest instead?
Not the enormous achievements. Not the dramatic transformations.
The small wins.
Perhaps you said no when you would previously have said yes.
Perhaps you noticed that familiar thought pattern and responded to yourself differently.
Perhaps you asked for help.
Perhaps you rested without feeling that you had to earn it first.
Perhaps you walked away from something that no longer felt right.
Perhaps you're beginning to recognise what you actually need, rather than automatically putting everyone else first.
These things can be very easy to overlook.
But… they… count…. ALWAYS!
The things we cultivate quietly.
Personal growth isn't always obvious while it is happening. Can even feel a glacial pace and find it hard to perceive the internal shifts.
A seed doesn't look particularly impressive when it is sitting beneath the soil. There is a great deal happening that we simply cannot see.
People can be much the same.
Some of the most important changes happen quietly.
A little more self-trust.
A kinder inner voice.
A stronger boundary.
A growing awareness of what feels safe and what doesn't.
A willingness to try something new.
A growing ability to sit with uncertainty rather than immediately trying to fix it.
These may not look like milestones on a traditional list of achievements, but they can represent enormous changes in how we relate to ourselves and the world around us.
Gratitude isn't about pretending everything is wonderful.
When I talk about gratitude as a therapeutic tool, I don't mean forcing ourselves to be positive or finding something good in every difficult experience. This is NOT a positive vibes-only kinda post, promise.
Gratitude shouldn't become another thing we have to get right.
There are times when life is genuinely hard. (Most times, if I'm honest)
We can acknowledge what is painful and notice what is sustaining us.
Both can exist at the same time.
Perhaps gratitude is less about saying “everything is okay” and more about saying:
“Even in the middle of everything that is difficult, what is here that I can notice?”
It might be a person.
A place.
A moment of peace.
Something your body allowed you to do today.
A decision you made.
A lesson you've learnt.
Or simply the fact that you are still here, still growing, still becoming.
Pause. Notice. Gather.
So, this August, perhaps take a little time to sit with yourself.
Make yourself a drink, any sort, I'm not judging, a cocktail or perhaps an iced tea with lemon, mint, berries or whatever you have nearby and imagine you're taking a small harvest of your own.
Ask yourself:
What have I cultivated since the beginning of the year?
What am I doing now that I couldn't have done six months ago?
What small change am I proud of?
What have I learnt about myself?
Where have I become stronger, kinder or more honest with myself?
And perhaps most importantly:
What am I overlooking because it doesn't feel like a big enough achievement?
You don't need a basket overflowing with accomplishments.
Sometimes the harvest is surprisingly small.
But small doesn't mean insignificant.
A single tomato is still a tomato.
A tiny shift in perspective can still change the direction of a life.
And sometimes, before we rush on to everything that needs doing next, we need to stop long enough to notice what has already grown.
So, what are you harvesting this August?
Perhaps it's time to pause, take a breath, and give yourself some credit for how far you've come.