Tag Archives: trauma

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.

Sane