The Solstice and the Burn

Welcome to the Solstice and the beginning of Cancer season.

We’re standing at the pinnacle of the solar year, exactly halfway between one winter Solstice and the next – fully immersed in the blazing heat of summer.

Where the light shows us the way.

It seems like it should be easy to float here, enjoying the sun dusting our skin, basking in the warmth of long days and bright skies.

Yet the brilliance of light reveals what has been shadowed.

Before we fully adjust to the brightness, we know the moment – the pause where we find ourselves blinking in the sudden glare.

The moment when what was hidden is brilliantly revealed.

That moment of clarity is rarely comfortable.

No.

The shift from inner knowing to visible truth can be startling. We feel the kiss of summer on newly revealed skin, and suddenly what no longer fits begins to chafe

The burn might sting, but it is not punishment. The burn is only the sting of exposure.

And the Solstice is the holder of light.

The teller of truth.

That which argues with no one, judges no one, and waits patiently for us to see.

It is easy to forget, until the sting arrives, how starkly light can reveal. We celebrate illumination while overlooking what it asks of us.

The truth teller asks us to see.

Not good. Not bad.

But simply what is.

And it is only with the light that we see the shadow clearly.

And too in the light, we are seen.

Here, at the height of the year, we bear witness to all that has been planted. We find what has flourished unseen beneath the surface and what has struggled to take root. This is where what has been growing quietly pushes above, asking to be seen.

This is where hidden finds form.

Where the inner reveals through the outer.

The solstice marks the longest day, but also a turning. The light reaches its fullness and at the same time the wheel begins its slow return.

From here to wherever it is we are meant to go, may we bathe in the light and hold ourselves to the truth of what has been revealed.