We have been in the waiting mode for quite a while. Waiting for a few other life variables to align to build our summer schedule. Are we traveling? Are we not traveling? What are we doing tomorrow and next week? So much has been hanging in the air, in contrast to our usual energy, when we plan our travels ahead with booked flights and an organized schedule. But not this year. A lot has been left unplanned and messy for our family, creating a different kind of time vacuum when we are home without structured timelines.
Initially, the unstructured flow felt unfamiliar to us as we are a pretty organized bunch. But as time went on, over a good month of no school and a non-structured schedule, on top of most of the kids’ friends being away for their summer vacation, I somehow found myself with a little more mental bandwidth. Most days, the kids have been leisurely pursuing their interest-led activities at home while Frido and I have attended BK. I often finish my first round of work before the kids wake up, followed by family breakfast. I weave in and out of different tasks and responsibilities. Days feel long and expansive, and time feels like it’s lingering like a fragrance of ripe summer fruit. On the summer solstice, Frido and I took a slow evening hike with Mango to mark the longest day of the year. The feeling of summer was everywhere in the canyon, including the gentle breeze and the chorus of frogs. It’s definitely a season when it feels rewarding to embrace moments of slowness to ground our energy.
Within this mini-vortex of summertime, I found my inner compass pivoting. It happened overnight, in a way that a compass would flip its direction as soon as you, the beholder of a compass, faced towards a different direction. I woke up one morning and knew which skin I needed to shed, specifically which weekly routines I needed to take a break from. These were activities I absolutely loved doing, and never thought I would leave them behind… So when the thought of quitting came to my mind, I initially doubted it. I also questioned the why. Then, as I sat with the thoughts, I began to feel the creeping fear of missing out on something - something I would have gained if I were to stay on the path.
That’s the interesting thing about our human minds. If we are not tuned in, we can harbor unwarranted fear of missing out on something that “might or might not” happen in the future unconsciously. Our beautiful ability to dream wildly and imagine the impossible can also hinder us by having the opposite effect.
For me, this summer, in the midst of an unexpected void, I was able to shine a light on the many conflicting emotions about removing elements from my weekly routines. I ultimately listened to my inner voice. I knew that the innate knowing was wiser than my logic or justifications, and it was important to listen even though it didn’t make sense and I didn’t know where it would guide me.
Though it has only been a short while since I shifted my path, I can already feel the energy of the new seeds growing beneath the deep soil. I started having an evolving vision for notebooks/journals in harmony with Botanical Resonance‘s current offering; I just finished the first working sample and hope to start testing it. Many ideas for the BK in-person community offerings are also slowly bubbling up. I still feel ‘more’ of something else- I don’t know yet- emerging, and because of that, I feel filled with optimism from the unknown. But more than any visible or tangible outcomes, I feel innately aligned with my decision.
//
Just as I finished writing the draft of this story, it was decided that I would head to Yakushima to tend to some important matter. It’s a bit of a rush departure, so it’s easy to feel swept away by urgency, but I am reminding myself that what will unfold will unfold… so stay grounded. I will surely be carrying my new prototype of Botanical Resonance “book” as my trusted talisman.
I would love to conclude this love letter by sending you the summer energy of slowness and playful expansiveness... and a gentle reminder that we are exactly where we are meant to be and are not missing out on anything that hasn’t happened yet.
-wakako
p.s. The prototype of a new hand-bound journal, captured as the main image in this love letter, features a Cyanotype print of Lupine that our dear friend Caitlin Parker made and gifted to me.
**This story is from the BK Love Letter for July 2026. If you would like to read the entire love letter we sent to our community, including links to featured stories and new and updated BK artifacts, you can browse it via this link.