Look both ways

A look back and forward at the same time.

The solstice was yesterday (June 21), and I am always fascinated by this day. Celebrations near and far still do happen-fires, harvest, and sun worshipers collide.

On the solstice, we are given a reminder to ‘honor’ ancient wisdom and traditions, to celebrate the summer with its abundance of light, warmth, and agricultural bounties. Overall we are much less conscious of the joy of the solstice and its celebrations, festivals, and rituals than days gone by. Our ‘modern’ world does still mark the solstice, and most of us somehow connect (somewhere in the recesses of our brain) that it is a day of celebrating new beginnings.

The simple ‘facts’ of the Solstice are that it is the day sun reaches it’s highest point in the sky all year, “the tilt of Earth’s axis is most inclined towards the sun directly above the Tropic of Cancer.” (http://time.com/5314789/summer-solstice-facts) and so it is one the longest day of the year. It marks the beginning of summer. One of the most well-known celebrations of the summer solstice is at the Neolithic monument of Stonehedge: with many of the theories of this magical prehistoric structure stating it was built to align with the sun. In doing a little research about Stonehedge, I learned a few new things that historians and archeologists are saying about this masterpiece: It took 1,500 years to erect, it is roughly 100 stones, it was possibly a burial ground, some stones are local to the nearby quarries, and yet other stones of the inner ring seem to trace to the Preseli Hills in Wales- some 200 miles away. WOW!  (BTW- want some interesting reading on Stonehedge? click.)

Icarus drawingOn this day I always tend to think of the Mythological story of Icarus, because of the sun. It’s a story of hope, and creative imagination at the beginning, unfortunately, turning into sorrow. Somehow this small Greek Myth has always stayed with me, and although it is kind of sad, I have always liked this myth. I think it’s the soaring free, the wings, flying above it all, the innovation of Daedalus and the spirit of Icarus,  that makes me admire this myth. So, on these summer days, where now, unfortunately, the days are getting shorter, there is still a joy and lightness of summer. Right now the day light is approximately five and half hours longer than that opposite day (i.e the winter solstice) and I’ll take it! Hopefully, we all get some soaring time this summer-with projects, friends, families, maybe some journeys, and always some paths with their twists and turns. With a little luck, your melting will be minimum!

The myth of Icarus:

“Icarus was the son of the famous craftsman Daedalus in Greek mythology. His father was the creator of the Labyrinth, a huge maze located under the court of King Minos of Crete, where the Minotaur, a half-man half-bull creature lived. In order for the secret of the Labyrinth to be kept, Minos had then imprisoned Daedalus and Icarus in a tower above his palace. Daedalus managed to create two sets of wings for himself and his son, that were made of feathers glued together with wax. He taught Icarus how to fly and warned him not to fly too high, which would cause the wax to melt, nor too low, which would cause the feathers to get wet with sea water. Together, they flew out of the tower towards freedom. However, Icarus soon forgot his father’s warnings, and started flying higher and higher, until the wax started melting under the scorching sun. His wings dissolved and he fell into the sea and drowned. The area of the sea where he fell took the name Icarian Sea after him, while a nearby island was named Icaria.”

https://www.greekmythology.com/Myths/Mortals/Icarus/icarus.html

When this sun stands still!

The Summer Solstice: As Good as It Get

“The summer solstice is the longest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere. The sun has been inching its way back into our lives ever since the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. Rising slightly earlier each morning and setting a minute or two later every night, it graces us with light gradually gained. The change, the shift, is at first imperceptibly slow. But it is steady, and soon the minute-by-minute accumulation of daylight asserts itself in measures of hours. More and more hours of sun warmed shine.

By the spring equinox, the halfway point in the annual solar swing, the length of day and night is equal everywhere on Earth. The constant accretion of light continues for three more months until the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. That’s about 15 hours of sunlight in New York City and 21 hours in Fairbanks, Alaska. In Sweden, it is indeed the land of the midnight sun. And at the North Pole, the sun doesn’t set at all.

The seasonal ascendance of light and temperature is not — despite popular belief — due to our distance from the sun, but to the degree of directness of its rays. It would be logical on the face of it to assume that in the smarmy summer the earth approaches closest to the sun, and that we are furthest away from it in the cold, dark of winter. Not so. The earth reaches its perihelion, the point on our orbit which brings us closest to the sun, in winter (this year it was on January 1); and conversely, during summer (July 6, 2011) we attain our aphelion, the furthest reach of our range from the sun.

Though the distance from the sun is greatest in the summer, it is around the summer solstice that the sun sits highest in the sky. The steep path of its rays is angled directly overhead. Vertical. Its energy aimed arrow-like straight down on us. The summer solstice is the lightest, brightest, most brilliant summit of solar power. The peak, the potent pinnacle. The absolute apex of radiant energy extended toward us from our own shining star.

The summer solstice is the height of the glory of the season of the sun. And it is all downhill from there. For once it is as light, as bright, as ripe as it can possibly get, it just can’t get any better. It is then that the dark must begin to creep back. Back and back in tiny daily increments, bringing cold and death in its wake. The eventual return of the dark completes the annual solar circuit, the swing shift of sunlight.

On the solstice and for several days surrounding it, the sun stands sentinel at dawn, hovering, as it were, before beginning its descent into dark. It seems to stand stark still in the sky, which is exactly what the word solstice means — “sun stands still.” It stands proud and tall for our total admiration and enthusiastic tribute. And like the sun, we stand still and tall, as well, basking in its full attention.

If we celebrate the birth of the brand new sun and the return of the light at the winter solstice, we salute its vibrant expansive maturity at the solstice in the summer. We exalt in the season’s vital strength — and our own — even as we acknowledge its impending and inevitable loss of virility, fertility and ultimate demise. With bittersweet recognition of the impermanence of the season, we glory in that golden gift of heat and bright light. While we can.”

Written by Urban shaman, eco-ceremonialist, ritual expert and consultant

and Happy Birthday to Emily!