Monthly Archives: June 2022

Unpacking Under the Solstice Sun

Carole Lombard Twentieth Century

I believe in living in harmony with the Universe. At least trying. So today, the summer solstice, marks an important occasion. It’s the longest day of the year. The day in which we’re the closest to the sun. Today, the sun is giving us all it can give.

Its almost as if the Universe is giving us extra time to examine those things that are working and those things that aren’t. Its a time to look at what we are carrying forward. We are energy. Everything is energy. Every thought. Every action. All things slowed down to the extent that they become manifest into a touchable mass. And those things softly floating in our head. All of it collects. 

Our pasts hold energy. And we often carry it with us every day. If we did this with only those things that delighted us, then that would be one thing. But the human condition being what it is, we hold tighter to those things that have caused us pain. We stack and pack them; reflecting upon them often. Like luggage, we have pain and hurtful words neatly folded and stored away. Then lug those bags with us wherever we go. Convinced they’re invisible unless we choose to show them to someone.

The reality is, they’re always visible. Like attracts like. Those suitcases radiate an energy that is felt by those around us. Most importantly, its felt by us. Dimming the brightest day. Haunting the most peaceful of nights. Interfering with our view of the world. Interfering with our view of ourselves. 

Some people carry their baggage like trophies. Like a high maintenance diva rolling in with carefully crafted designer luggage. Others merely have a backpack with a few hastily stuffed items. They try to travel light. Although the latter is much healthier than the former, today is a good day for all of us to set the bag down, and release what’s inside.

So today, I plan to do just that. I’ve done so much self work I’m always a bit shocked when the Universe shows me something new. Something hidden in there that I’d missed. But something was shown to me. It made me cringe. But I will write it down, and burn it under the abundant sun on this longest day of the year. Then I plan to play, even if just for a moment. To take in the world like a child, with wonder and delight. Setting aside my worries. Just for today. Wherever you are, and however you can, I hope you do the same.


My Fellow Mariners

Greta Garbo Harpers Bazaar 1930

I’m convinced life is easier for those born with a smile on their face. Maybe I had one. I don’t remember. And with both parents gone, I have no one to ask. But, if I did, then fairly early on it faded. Conflict started early. Growing up with an alcoholic meant chaos was just a breath away. Oddly enough, even though that conflict has never left me, I’m generally highly optimistic. And prone to bouts of spontaneous laughter. I even laugh by myself. I really can’t stand seriousness. But I’m like the water. I also have waves. 

I’ve worked hard to understand and master the waves. But they are what they are; they can easily interfere with my vibrational frequency; my outlook; my ability to move forward. Instead of gliding over glassy water, I’ve often found myself manning the helm trying to make sure no harm is done as the bow plunges low. Its exhausting. But it has given me a deeper appreciation for life. One that can’t be found on still water.

Nothing really compares to the feeling of looking back at what I’ve gone through knowing I made it. And every time the waves appear I get better at navigating them. I can’t say its thrilling in the moment. But much in the same way sleep never feels so good as it does after a hard days labor or a meal more delicious than after having gone hungry, nothing makes you feel more secure within yourself than knowing you can handle it when things go deep and life gets funky. The smile afterward is hard fought. 

I had a wave catch me by surprise recently. It shouldn’t have. I saw the storm coming. But I was lazy. With all the chaos in the world, the last place I wanted to find it was within me. Yet, there it was. Once alone, the outward smile faded and the wave crashed. I think some of you know the feeling.

As much as I dread those moments, my life has always been made richer because of them. Perhaps its because during those times I am forced to shut everything out and use laser sharp focus. And when I do, I hear more. I see more. And afterward when I am able to smile again, I smile wider. I dance freer. I play harder. I linger longer at the glory of nature. And most importantly, All That Is speaks clearer. 

We are all living our own journey – unique to us and only us. All going at our pace. Growing in our own way. For some its profoundly slow. Those who haven’t been wet a day in their life or don’t even understand the metaphor within these words. For others, we’re launched forward by a hard wind. I tend to gravitate toward fellow mariners. Those trying to figure out why they’re here, how it all works. Those who had to swim when they didn’t even have a boat. 

So to my fellow mariners, smile with me. You’ve earned it. Whether you are still underwater, making discoveries about yourself, life, and how we are all interconnected – finding your purpose. Or those who are, for a time, sitting on the bow enjoying a moment of calm. I want you to know, there’s a reason why you are here. You are moving forward quickly. You add to life because you navigate the waves. Every time you emerge, you do so with something more to offer. And if you can’t smile just yet, you are not alone. And you will again.