Mindful Minute: June Gloom
By David Present
For those of us who grew up outside San Diego or away from the coast, the term “June Gloom” may come as a surprise. It did for me.
I grew up in the high desert of Northern Nevada, where summer was bright and hot. The sky opened wide, and each month was warmer than the last. When I imagined summer in Southern California, I pictured something effortless: long days with sunlight stretching over lazy waves.
But seasons along the coast do not work that way. The coast has its own rhythm.
June arrives draped in a thick marine layer. Gray clouds gather over the water and swallow the morning sun whole. The air turns cool and still.
Life often works that way.
So does the practice of law.
We are taught to expect progress to move forward: finish school, get the job, win the motion, resolve the case. One step leading neatly to the next. Each month brighter than the last. Each version of ourselves more composed, accomplished, and certain.
But growth is rarely linear. Heraclitus, the ancient Greek philosopher, is credited with the metaphor of a flowing river: each time we step into it, the water is different. And so are we. Research in psychotherapy and behavior change points in the same direction.[1]
Some months are heavy. We can be doing everything right and still feel behind. We answer our emails, meet deadlines, and prepare for hearings or meetings. From the outside, we may look steady. Inside, there may be fog.
We may win and still feel empty. Achieve and still feel anxious. Look composed and still feel lost.
This is not failure. It is part of being human.
The legal profession rewards composure. It teaches us to respond, advocate, and endure. These are valuable skills. But wellness within this profession requires something deeper than performance. It requires honesty, self-awareness, and compassion.
It asks us to admit when our own sky is gray. To recognize when we are stretched thin. To stop confusing exhaustion with ambition. To stop treating rest as weakness.
The coast does not apologize for the gloom. It does not rush the clouds away or pretend the morning is bright. The gloom has a purpose. Cold coastal water rises from below, carrying nutrients toward the surface and helping sustain the life beneath it. Above the water, cool air gathers and condenses into fog. What looks gray from the shore is part of something living, moving, and growing.
When the air warms and the marine layer lifts, the light returns.
Likewise, we are allowed to have seasons where our growth is not visible. Seasons where healing looks like sleeping enough, asking for help, or taking a walk.
This is how we stay well: not by demanding constant sunshine, but by learning how to live wisely in the fog.
So this month, be patient with the gloom. Let it soften you and remind you of the person beneath the professional exterior.
June Wellness Challenge
The San Diego County Bar Association invites you to try two simple acts of seasonal wellness this June.
First, choose one gray morning or afternoon and do something restorative indoors. Read a good book, play your favorite game, or call a friend. Make something warm to drink. Social connection is strongly associated with better health, and small rituals of physical warmth can help cue feelings of comfort and interpersonal warmth.[2] The point is not merely to be cozy. It is to create a small, deliberate pause in which the nervous system can reset.
Second, use a gloomy day to spend time outside with less direct sun exposure. Take a walk, stretch by the water, or choose whatever outdoor activity feels accessible. A gray day can make it easier to get outside while still being mindful of your skin.
The best part of June Gloom is that it often pulls away in the late afternoon. When it does, step outside for a few minutes and let the light reach you. Natural light helps regulate circadian rhythm, sleep, and mood.[3]
Above all, remember this: progress comes one day at a time. It will not always look like forward motion.
Sometimes progress looks like rest. Sometimes it looks like beginning again.
Keep going.
[1] Daniel W. Graham, Heraclitus, Stan. Encyclopedia of Phil. (Dec. 8, 2023), https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/heraclitus/; see also Adele M. Hayes et al., Change Is Not Always Linear: The Study of Nonlinear and Discontinuous Patterns of Change in Psychotherapy, 27 Clinical Psychol. Rev. 715, 715–23 (2007).
[2] Julianne Holt-Lunstad et al., Social Relationships and Mortality Risk: A Meta-analytic Review, 7 PLOS Med. e1000316 (2010), https://journals.plos.org/plosmedicine/article?id=10.1371/journal.pmed.1000316; Lawrence E. Williams & John A. Bargh, Experiencing Physical Warmth Promotes Interpersonal Warmth, 322 Science 606, 606–07 (2008).
[3] Christine Blume et al., Effects of Light on Human Circadian Rhythms, Sleep and Mood, 23 Somnologie (Berl.) 147, 147–56 (2019).

