Today is the Eve of the Summer Solstice. Where I am, it dawned late and wet and grey, and I think that tomorrow's longest day may not actually feel like it. I will celebrate, anyway, this turning-of-the-year point as we now move from beginnings and nurturing towards ripening and harvests.
In some cultures the Summer Solstice is said to be when the veil between this world and the other worlds is at its thinnest and maybe the curtains can be parted. On the Eve of the Solstice light a fire – or a candle – flames to light the way between the worlds – and speak (or listen) to those who have gone before us – or who have yet to catch up with us.
More mundanely it is a time for taking stock: a half-year checkpoint. What have we achieved? What do we still want to achieve? Are we on track? A time to revisit our visions: do they still sing to us, or is it time for a different tune?
Sometimes I feel very connected to my soul. And sometimes I wonder if we even inhabit the same body. I think the difference may simply rest in taking the time to make the call, to check in with myself.
My own vision board is very current. It needs no overhaul because we have been in conversation for a couple of years now. We tweak, refresh, almost in passing…and I pass it (and pause by it) daily. It is at the doorway to my kitchen, one of the first things I see every day. When I look at it, I know that it is still my true call for manifestation AND my reminder of the work I need to do. It is a call for help and a call to act. I know where I am making progress and where I am still blocked. I have energy work to do.
Outside gentle summer rain is falling: soft but insistent. Welcome water greening the earth.
The world turns and my world is returning. I am into my 'new normal' already. The sense of waiting is dissipating. The sense of movement is returning. Slowly, but surely. The world turns.
At this time of year it turns away from the light and back towards the dark, so it is worth remembering that the dark is also necessary. It will come slowly and inevitably…and then it too will recede again. That is not a call to be gloomy, but rather the opposite. It is a call to remember that these are the days of plenty, of abundance, of celebration. Enjoy the richness of summer earth. Drink deeply of the clean waters. For this too will pass.
Note the blessings of the seasons – the sunshine and warmth, and yes the soft summer rain. Notice the flowers, especially those blooming in unexpected places. Notice the people in your life and see how maybe they too are blooming in unexpected ways. Consider the very ground beneath your feet and all we ask of it, and give thanks for all it gives.
Stand very still and notice how securely you are held on this spinning travelling ball as it turns and journeys through space. Take a moment to simply marvel at life!
As you sit to your summer table, be it feast or frugal, banqueting board or picnic field, take another moment to consider the source of everything before you: the seeds, the flowers, the fruits, the pollinating insects, the queen of the hive and her honey, the birds, the fish, the animals and all that gave them life, and all the people and the processes that brought this nourishing abundance (abundance even in a shop-bought sandwich, abundance in a single scavenged apple) – all the people and processes that brought this from the source to your fingers. Marvel at that too, and give thanks.
I will and I do. I marvel that I am loved and safe and free. I am fortunate and I am grateful. I am learning how to not let life be a problem. I have shifted my ladder to a different wall, but I also know that I couldn't have done that from the ground. Do not pay too much heed to those who tell you that your ladder is against the wrong wall and how sad you will be to get to the top and then discover that. It may not be so – on both counts.
For myself I know that I had to climb to the top of that first ladder, that first wall, in order to release the fixings, to free the ladder in order to move it to the right wall. I do not regret those years. I have been reading old journals and see how unhappy I was, how stressed, how utterly exhausted. Still, I do not regret those years. I do not regret how hard I made if for myself because all of that helps me to see more clearly now. I could not be who I am now if I had not been who I was then. I could not be who I am becoming without being who I am now. It is all of a piece, a part of the whole.
So as we head towards the Solstice, to longest day, take more than a moment – take as many moments as you can squeeze in to reflect and to re-vision.
On the Eve, light a flame and listen and do not question "who" you hear, just take note of "what" they say. Even if you think it is just your imagination– then maybe that is true – your imagination is part of you, so in that case: what are you trying to tell yourself – and is it worth listening to?
Come the morrow, celebrate the day with summer abundance of fresh food and feasting – if you are lucky enough to do so. Remember that a feast can also be frugal, a feast is not in the quantity or even in the quality of the food & drink before us, it is in the attitude with which we partake of it.
Greet the morning (if not necessarily the sunrise) with thanks for everything you are thankful for. Make an enormous list – or simply embrace it in your mind without delineating the boundaries between one thing and another. Celebrate the tiniest atom of it, celebrate the magnificent entirety of it.
And come back at some point to the earth-world, the day-to-day world of life as we have to, or as we are choosing to, live it. Remember again that this is a turning-of-the-year point: reflect on everything you have achieved since the winter solstice and re-set your intentions for the second half of the year.
Be at peace with your self.
