High June, high light

My summer solstice circle is next week; expect a slightly different take on a seasonal circle. Join me next Tuesday evening!

I know, I know, the UK weather is pretty dreadful. Yesterday our heating switched itself on and I found myself in joggers and sweater with a blanket wrapped around me. But we can’t deny the daylight, the extra hours before the light truly fades.

Blue and green: the South Downs in June 2022, when the summer was playing ball

Living in a land of unpredictable weather, with the changes we all feel (though not equitably) due to climate breakdown: the hours of daylight we get in a given month is an anchor. Whatever else is moving around us, here, each month, is a constant. In June the long evening hours, the too-early rising sun, the gift of potential are all here - if we wanted, if we could make it so, we could be outside soaking up sixteen hours of light every day.

One week today (Tuesday 18 June at 8pm) I’m holding one of my regular online circles for all paid subscribers, coinciding with the next milestone on the Celtic wheel of the year. I will draw on the words of

Lyndsay Kaldor

here from her beautiful post, Everything is Illuminated, for a summary of this moment:

We are approaching summer solstice or Litha meaning ‘light’ in the Celtic Wheel of the Year, marking the zenith of the sun — the brightest, lightest and most expansive moment in our calendar. And yet it is also a pause. The world 'solstice' comes from the Latin solstitium meaning 'sun stands still'. After reaching its highest point in the sky, the sun begins to drop each day but the rate of change in daylight is slowest at the solstices and the sun appears to ‘stand still’, lingering before it changes direction.

This time of year feels significant to me as my first child was born in June, on the day before the solstice. It was a long birth: latent labour in the nights before, long days of ramping up and quietening down for the next night. Nights with no sleep and then a long, hard last day before she was born in a birth pool in our living room, at 1am the next morning. The long evening light. The long, endless moment. Shutting the blinds against the light, retreating into the darkness that needed to be felt, to be moved through until the morning came.

Rosa’s rose in our garden

We called her Rosa, inspired by the rose we’d bought for our new garden. I’d noticed the Latin name for rose on the label of the Shropshire lad climber we’d got from the local garden centre. I ran the name idea past my partner, expecting the veto that we seemed to put on every name the other one loved, but not this time. One day we’ll move from this flat and I’ll have to say goodbye to the rose. There will be more roses, but there’ll only be one Rosa.

Usually around this time of year, I feel a real energy from the light and the land, proper high vibes that come like a sensation of being drunk on light. So far I haven’t exactly felt it - maybe the lack of sunshine and warmth is to blame. Maybe I haven’t spent enough time sitting in my garden in the evening, or roaming hedgerows and jumping in open water, partly due to the off-putting chill. One thing I know is that the preparation for these circles always brings me closer to this potential. To the sensations offered up from knowing where we are from and where we are at. A remembering.

Poppies in Beckenham Place Park, south east London, 2023

I want these circles to embody this feeling of re-connection, as an antidote to the separation and distance of modern life (from light, from seasons, from land, from each other). I also want to bring a different slant to each one than you might get in a “typical” seasonal circle, using the themes offered by the wheel to shed light on a particular idea as it emerges right now, for you. Sharing something relevant from my own life is the way I know into this work. This month I want to talk about how and when we “should” feel joy, and when we “shouldn't”. I want to talk about empathy and whether it is always useful; I want to explore barriers to embracing light and how we let the dark balance it. I would love for you to join me.

Find out more about my online circles. These are free for all paid subscribers. I’ll post the Zoom details next week.