It’s approaching sunset.
Today is the solstice. For those
of us above the Tropic of Cancer, it’s the longest day of the year. For those of us down south of the Tropic of
Capricorn, it’s the shortest. Everyone
in the middle is pretty much living the same day as yesterday. And tomorrow.
And three months from now. But in
the more southern and northern latitudes, we are experiencing a shift in
seasons. A shift in time. A shift in mood. Astronomically, the solstice is a time when
the sun is either at its highest or its lowest point in relation to the
equator. Linguistically, the solstice is
Latin. Coming from the Latin derivatives of “Sun” and
“Be still.” But personally, spiritually,
the solstice is a time of light and dark.
It’s about day and night.
Pagans believe that the Winter Solstice is the beginning. It
is the celebration of darkness, before the light of a new season. It’s a time mourn losses, and put them behind
you. For earth bound believers, it is a
time of great humility. And it is. As for the Summer Solstice, Pagans say that it’s
a time of reflection: a time to look back on where you have been. Those ideas have
always been brilliant to me. In times of
darkness, our ancestors found a way to look to the light. In times of light, they looked back to the
dark.
When I was a little girl, I had no idea what the solstices
meant. I knew that summer meant I could
play outside later. It meant no
school. It meant warm nights and dew on
the grass in the morning. The Winter
Solstice meant Christmas and food and cold.
Yes, we have seasons in California, too.
Sometimes, it even snows here.
But anyway, back to the solstices.
I never understood the significance of the shortest or the longest day of
the year. I guess at that age, it really
didn’t matter. It matters now,
though. It matters a lot.
The first time that I had ever seen people celebrate the
summer solstice was in Alaska. I drove
off the ferry. Got a house. Burned a fire. With people I HAD NEVER MET BEFORE. I was
pregnant with Radely and I was tired after a 19 day transit from Virginia. But something told me to stay up and sit by
the fire with these people. As soon as I
watched the sun set behind Barometer Mountain at 11:15, I watched it rise again
at 4:25. There was no darkness. There was only twilight in what should have
been the dark of night. But it was in
those hours, that I realized what the solstice is about. It’s about the old and the new. It’s about remembering the past and looking
forward to the future. It’s about being
humbled by what you have and being hopeful about what may be. It’s also about recognizing loss and
succumbing to sacrifice.
From where I write, sunrise happened this morning at
5:47. The sun set at 8:37. That’s 14 hours and 50 minutes of total
daylight today. That’s more than half
the day to see life clearly. That’s more
than half the day to reflect on what has gotten me to this point. Those mosquito bites on balmy, island
nights. Rolling down the grassy hills
above the Lake. Paddling the West Side
of Santa Cruz Island. All night fire drills
in Yorktown, completed by making out with a guy with a guitar. Jumping the fence to the University swimming pool
and jumping from the cabana roof, naked, with people you barely know. Sitting by the fire while watching twilight
turn into twilight…Year after year after year.
Devising a way to save the world from itself in the dying embers at
4:AM. Watching the sun set behind the
lazy pines, while a little boy runs laps around the yard, picking berries.
Solstice is about the past, the present, the future. It’s about a lot of things. But ideally, it’s about being still so that
you can remember where you have been and look forward to where you are
going.
-Inner Peas
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