I’ve never been one to make New Year’s resolutions or to stick to them when I’ve tried. But I have always loved the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve. All the frenetic energy of Christmas stills, the to-do lists are crumpled up in the recycle bin, and each day holds so much potential for reflection and renewal, for tidying up one year before beginning the next. I don’t think I’ve ever directly associated the mood or energy of that week with the winter solstice that occurs just days before Christmas. But of course, they align…with the darkness outside comes an inner stillness. A time of natural hibernation awaits the return of the light.
It’s odd to think about the winter solstice on the hottest days of the year, with feels-like temperatures reaching 110 degrees. While the air conditioning struggles to keep up and outdoor plants wilt by 10:00 a.m., I stay inside with my morning coffee and enjoy the frenzy of bird feeder activity through the window. This is the only surefire way to avoid the inevitable bug-bite welts that decorate my arms and legs this time of year.
Have I mentioned that these sweltering Southern summers aren’t my favorite?
These past two weeks have been fascinating to observe, visually and audibly. Summer blooms abound in roadside ditches and front yard gardens. Butterflies newly free from the dissolved goo (I read that somewhere) of their former caterpillar lives now embody sheer delight. Just this week I spotted a Hummingbird Clearwing Moth, a most fascinating creature to be sure. (Bridgerton fans might hear that read in Lady Danbury’s voice. After all season 3 part 2 was finally released! …I digress.)
The tree canopy and my feeders are filled with newly-fledged finches, eastern bluebirds, downy woodpeckers, summer tanagers, tufted titmice, white-breasted nuthatches, and many unseen others. All the while, the young black vultures, now nearly nine weeks old, continue to grow in the barn, readying for their fledging in about two weeks.
More than 20 bird species' multicolored winged lives are thriving now because earlier this spring, mating pairs gathered sticks, straw, moss, and mud and artfully crafted nests to nourish a new season.
(A juvenile mourning dove even visited this week. What joy after seeing the parents all Spring. Apologies for the pic through a screened window.)
For weeks, I have been tidying my home. I’m a stacker and a stuffer. This isn’t an official personality type, but I imagine fellow stackers of books, bills, dishes, paperwork, or storage containers filled with those things and stuffers of unpaired socks, random tools, extension cords, or rarely-referenced instruction manuals into overfilled drawers may understand.
This tidying has led to projects…painting kitchen walls, painting stairway walls, planning two bathroom refreshes with new light fixtures and vintage mirrors, framing long-tucked-away art, and re-arranging the art that fills my walls. Nesting. (The cabinets are next…sage green, I think.)
It's also led to much less fun but imperative rodent control. Sometimes the things we don't want to do also need attention.
This week, without consciously thinking about the summer solstice, my inner natural compass is preparing for this season of new beginnings and renewed energy. Like the Eastern bluebird parents that launched three broods this year, I’m confident and comforted that the nest I’m feathering will nurture my creative pursuits for many months and years to come.
Solstice: from the Latin, sol (“sun”) and sistere (“to stand still”).
The natural balance for all of this activity, inside my home and out, is stillness. Perhaps that is true for you, too.
Mother Nature will offer us that this Thursday, June 20…and invite us to be still with the sun.
Rather than another to-do list to stack, I’ll offer these ideas of ways to enjoy the light or create some stillness.
Learn about Native American traditional rituals and ceremonies that honor the summer solstice.
Find a rejuvenating place in nature to sit and listen.
Connect with the sun through sun salutations…however many and at whatever pace feels right for your body.
Welcome the day watching the sunrise.
Thank the day while watching the sunset.
Create a personal ritual and journal about why it matters to you.
Journal about your hopes for the coming season.
Journal about all you hold gratitude for in your life.
I hope you may comment on your favorite way to celebrate the summer solstice or a practice you’ve created. For me, I've recently returned to the pool! I heard a radio show a few weeks ago where the host asked a caller why they stopped doing activities they used to love. Why indeed. Rather than navel-gazing about the reasons, I renewed my Y membership and bought new goggles. 💦
I hope the stillness you nurture for yourself on this solstice provides just what you need.
A Poem for the Summer Solstice
The Sun Never Says Even after all this time The sun never says to the earth, "You owe Me." Look what happens with A love like that, It lights the Whole Sky. ~ Hafiz