Too Hot to Handle: An Ayurvedic Approach to Thriving in Summer
In modern psychology, we have a term called Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), which most often refers to mood changes that occur during the darker winter months. What I find interesting is that Ayurveda has always recognized the profound impact of seasons on our bodies, minds, and daily lives. For much of human history, people lived in close relationship with the natural world. The food was seasonal. Daily activities shifted with the weather. Sleep patterns changed with the length of the day. Life itself moved differently throughout the year.
Today, many of us live quite differently. We have access to nearly every food year-round. We work in temperature-controlled buildings. We exercise indoors. We maintain similar schedules regardless of whether it is January or July. None of this is inherently bad. Yet it raises an interesting question:
What happens when the seasons change, but we don't?
An image of a person sitting with their feet in pool water.
Ayurveda is often translated as "the science of life." At its heart, it is a system that teaches us how to live in relationship with ourselves, our environment, and the natural rhythms around us. Ayurveda teaches that our bodies are constantly responding to the environment around us. In late winter and early spring, we may feel heavier or slower. During summer, we may feel more irritable, intense, or driven. In autumn, we may feel more scattered, anxious, or "spacy."
These experiences are often dismissed as moods, personality traits, or simply part of life. Ayurveda offers another perspective.
What if these experiences are information? What if heaviness, irritability, and spaciness are not problems to solve, but messages to understand? Our bodies are always seeking balance. The question is whether we are listening.
Ultimately, Ayurveda teaches that we are not meant to live exactly the same way in every season. The way we eat, sleep, exercise, work, and socialize may need to shift according to the season, our age, our climate, and—for those who menstruate—even our monthly cycles.
Many of us have been taught to value consistency above all else. Yet nature offers a different lesson. Trees do not behave the same way in every season. Gardens do not produce the same fruits year-round. Ecosystems are constantly adapting. Perhaps health is not found in maintaining the same routines all year long. Perhaps health asks us to change with the seasons. Though every season has its own gifts, I have to admit that summer is my favorite. I love the longer days, the warmth, and the light. Not having to layer up every time I leave the house certainly helps, too.
From an Ayurvedic perspective, it makes perfect sense that I love summer. Summer is associated with Pitta, the energetic principle of heat, transformation, focus, digestion, and drive. When balanced, Pitta helps us feel motivated, purposeful, courageous, and productive. When excessive, however, it may show up differently. We may notice increased irritability, impatience, frustration, inflammation, skin issues, heartburn, perfectionism, overwork, or burnout. As temperatures rise and days grow longer, we take on more projects. We spend more time outdoors. We stay busy.
Yet summer invites another consideration that I have been reflecting on lately.
A person walking barefoot, balancing on a tree log.
Our bodies work hard to maintain balance. When temperatures increase, our bodies expend energy regulating temperature, hydration, digestion, and countless other processes behind the scenes. That means we may not have the same capacity available for everything else. I often see people engaging in meaningful growth work—whether through therapy, coaching, recovery, spiritual practice, major life transitions, or simply paying closer attention to themselves. While these efforts are deeply supportive, they can also require tremendous energy. Sometimes the answer isn't to keep adding more. Sometimes the answer is to nourish ourselves more deeply while that growth unfolds.
Stated even more simply, We often assume that if growth is good, more growth must be better. But there are seasons when the body may need less striving and more support.
My question is sometimes:
What if the answer isn't to push harder?
What if the answer is to soften for a while?
What if summer is asking for more hydration, more rest, more nourishment, more joy, and more integration?
The body is already doing important work. In Ayurveda, we often bring balance through opposites. While this principle sounds simple, it is remarkably powerful.
If there is too much heat, we introduce cooling. If there is too much intensity, we cultivate softness. If there is too much activity, we create space for rest. This principle is reflected in what Ayurveda calls ritucharya, or seasonal living. Ritucharya is much more than a seasonal grocery list—though I do enjoy those. It offers guidance on how we eat, sleep, exercise, dress, and care for ourselves throughout the year. The goal is not to fight winter blues or wage war on summer heat. The goal is to allow ourselves to change with nature.
For the summer season, consider bringing in more cooling and hydrating practices:
Cooling fluids
Coconut water
Coriander-infused water
Licorice tea
Cooling foods (not necessarily cold foods)
Cucumber
Watermelon
Grapes
Cilantro
Cooling spices
Coriander
Fennel
Dill
Mint
Cooling practices
Sheetali pranayama
Chandra pranayama
Restorative yoga
Yoga Nidra
Swimming
Slow walks in the early morning or evening
Summer is generally not the ideal season for intense practices such as hot yoga, heated power yoga, sculpt classes, or high-intensity interval training. These activities can create additional heat and may amplify symptoms of excess Pitta. Now, before I sound too self-righteous, I should probably mention that I spend much of my summer playing tennis. Tennis is about as Vata-Pitta aggravating as it gets. So yes, you can absolutely find me sprinting around a tennis court in July.
You can also find me doubling down on hydration, cooling foods, restorative practices, and anything else that helps restore balance afterward. Perhaps the invitation of summer is not to do more simply because the days are longer. Perhaps the invitation is to pay attention. To notice where heat is serving us and where it is burning us. To recognize when ambition becomes exhaustion, when movement becomes depletion, and when intensity becomes imbalance. The goal is not to eliminate the fire. Fire helps us digest, create, transform, and grow. The goal is to tend it well.
To allow ourselves to change with the season rather than demanding that we remain the same.
After all, nature never does.
An image of the sun setting over water.

