Unexpected

The Summer Solstice took me by surprise.

As in, I was not expecting to feel what I felt on this day. I knew the solstice was coming of course, knew the exact day and time and phase of the moon (almost full). But I did not expect to be birthed into a higher understanding of life on that day.

Yes I know, that was deep. Obviously the Solstice was a very powerful experience for me. But before I go on, let me say one thing: I love writing this blog. The words materialize inside of me, desiring release. I think about possible posts and how one day I would like to write them. I think every day, I will sit down and write. But I don't. How can I, when there is so much to do? Since the Solstice, however, my Self has cried out to myself: write! Woman, write. Even if they are not the detailed essays I sometimes produce, I must share this channel of my soul. So yes, I will try to keep posting. Even if they come slowly, slowly they will come.

So now, back to the Solstice. What a lovely time of year - the damp and cool and vivid green of spring lingers, but the plants grow with the energy of summer. I was just looking at my last post, written about a month ago, and the pictures of the garden amazed me. How bare, how little everything was! What a beautiful, glowing green and blooming purple Eden it is now. The process of life so joyously exquisite in the quiet, long light of late evening. Deep gratitude.

In the days, possibly even weeks, leading up to the Solstice, I wasn't feeling especially great. Not sick - physically I was fine - but drained, unmotivated, low energy. Kind of grumpy. After my experience at the Winter Solstice, I should have known something was coming. But I did not. 

The Winter Solstice, for me, was much anticipated. I knew it would bring about deep spiritual transformation, and that it did. I did not expect the same for its summer counterpart. 

The morning of the Summer Solstice, I woke up with cramps, dull, achy, and constant. This happens to me around the full moon, as my body cycles in her rhythm and releases those little eggs of my creative being. I can tell how powerful a full moon is by the intensity of my cramps, and I knew this moon was very, very powerful. Full moon on the Solstice, powerful indeed. 

By the time the kids were asleep and I was finishing up my evening chores, the cramps intensified to the point of no walking. I lay down in the grass, late setting sun shining his last rays upon me, and I surrendered to the waves of pain washing over me. I feel like I'm in labor, I thought to myself. Looking up through the tree above me, neon green with the deep blue beyond, distant hills glowing gold, I had the sudden realization that I was in labor. Giving birth to mySelf. Birthing in the energy of release, of evolution, of healing; a rebirth in the continuing cycle of spiritual transformation that has been occurring since the Winter Solstice. As I lay on the Earth, cradled in her embrace, I gave birth to a higher understanding of myself. 

Since that solstice experience, I have felt different. Slower, more relaxed, joyful, full of peace. Reconnected to Spirit after a very, very busy spring. My perspective, always expanding, now perceives a deeper understanding of my truth. Continuing on with the work of this year, old patterns were released- unsupportive patterns passed down from generation to generation, passed on from experiences of lives lived long ago: patterns of scarcity, anxiety, anger, control, fear. Patterns no longer needed in my Being. I release you with a kiss. 

While living the daily routines of life, it is easy to forget that we are in the midst of transformation: the feminine is rising, the masculine is healing. Coming into balance. I see this healing in the faces of the mothers holding hands in Turkey as they protect their protesting children from violent forces. I see it in the strength of my friends as they bravely leave unhealthy relationships to create a truer life for themselves and their children. I see it in my family as we learn to communicate and connect on a deeper level. I see a vision, and it is beautiful. I see the blossoming of my garden reflected in the universal stars. 

I invite you to open your eyes and birth your Truth into the world.

*blessings*

{this post is dedicated to Alisha, Megan and Kerry - your strength and beauty are an inspiration}

Celebrating Solstice : A Walk through the Garden

Five days ago the sun blessed us with the most daylight hours of the year. It was the Summer Solstice, a day to celebrate the sun and its gifts of life. Because I had been working like a madwoman in the garden, I did not plan an elaborate celebration. Anthony was working and my parents were busy, so the kids and I celebrated by soaking up the rays and making sun art out of modeling clay.

That evening after the kids were asleep, I spent the long, lovely evening hours in the garden, breathing in the gifts of the earth. After the sun finally set in a brilliant show of orange and pink, I went into the house and wrote this in my journal:

Tonight I am dreaming. Envisioning [in vision]. Creating. Being.
I am in the garden in the fading Solstice light, streaks of color painting the sky. The magnetic hues of the purple and pink petunias enrapture me. I am walking slowly, inhaling my garden's vibrant life energy. This is why I do this, I think.

The last three nights in the garden, I have worked very, very hard. Until 10:00 at night, when I couldn't see anymore. I prepared beds for and planted 19 winter squash (delicata, acorn, spaghetti, pumpkin, and some mystery squash. My dad is sure they are winter squash - but then again, they might be cucumbers); 7 tomatoes, with more on the way; 15 pepper plants, a corn maze, sunflowers, and untold petunias, marigolds, nasturtiums, zinnias, pansies, and snapdragons. [For this beautiful bounty I have my dad to thank. If it wasn't for his always giving me flats of his starts, my garden wouldn't be half as beautiful.]

Last night I was really tired. As I unenthusiastically finished planting my corn, my exhausted mind kept wondering why it was that I do this. Why am I so driven to work long hours growing food for my family? I could just shop at the farmer's market and spend my evenings relaxing on the porch. Why do I do this?

Tonight, as I walked through the beautiful creation of my own hands, the universe answered my question.

I do this because I love it.

I do this because a garden is a magical sanctuary, a connection to earth and Spirit. I do this because it truly is amazing to plant a seed and watch it grow into a beautiful being that nourishes our bodies and souls. I do this because it is my direct experience of Goddess. My garden is my creation, my vision coming to life. Moving among the plants, I can feel the vibrations of their life force. The energy of God.

This is why I do this. My garden inspires me, rejuvenates me, renews me.

*Gratitude*