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Finding Balance at the Spring Equinox: A Sun Ritual Using the Three Druid Elements

The Spring Equinox, Alban Eiler, is the time when the light and the dark in the world are in balance. The timing of the Equinox is fortuitous–this time of balance–after such turmoil in the world. Here in the last two weeks here in the US, we’ve been on a whirlwind of change where nearly every person’s life has been radically disrupted and changed due to the global pandemic. Given the circumstances of where we are, today, I’d like to offer a balancing ritual for Spring Equinox that you can do personally to help bring balance into your life.  (I’m posting this a few days early from my usual weekly post so that you have it in time for the Equinox!)

 

Preliminaries

A representation of the 3 druid elements

A representation of the 3 druid elements

This ritual uses the three druid elements: Gywar, Calas, and Nyfre, drawn from the druid revival for the ritual. These three terms, deriving from old Welsh, represent three principles in the universe.  I think they are particularly useful for a spring equinox balancing ritual.

 

Nwyfre (NOO-iv-ruh) literally translates as “sky” or “heaven” and refers to the life force or vital energy that is in each of us.  Nywfre is the spark of life, that which separates an inanimate thing from an animate being.

 

Gwyar (GOO-yar) literally translates as “blood”, and refers to the concept of flow, flexibility, fluidity, motion, and general change. This is the element that acts like water, flowing around obstacles rather than hitting up against them.

 

Calas (CAH-lass) is tied to the old Welsh word “Caled” and literally translates as “hard”.  This is the element of solidity, stability, and grounding.

 

What’s interesting is that to truly have balance, we can’t just focus on Calas (grounding), which might be the first thing that would come to mind.  A situation as unstable as what is before us requires us to balance the three elements together: we do need Calas to help us be stable and rooted, but we also need a great deal of Gwyar, as the situation is evolving rapidly and nobody knows what is next.  Nwyfre is life itself–and embracing life during this challenging time focuses our energy not on the chaos and fear of death but on the energies of life, thus bringing us into greater harmony.

 

This ritual also uses three prayers (two from the druid tradition and one I wrote) and uses the chanting of another welsh term, Awen.  For more on Awen, see this post.

 

The following ritual would ideally be done in three parts: as the sun rises, at mid-day, and as the sun sets (this is the first version of the ritual I present). The second variant of the ritual still uses the energy of the sunrise, noonday, and sunset times of the sun, but in a metaphorical sense. Thus, I will offer two variants of the ritual.

 

The Ritual: Balancing of Gwyar, Calas, and Nyfre: A Three-Part Sunrise – Noonday and Sunset Ritual

The solar current rising at sunrise

Sunrise

Select a sacred place that you can return to at three points in the day: sunrise (or early morning), noon, and sunset.  Ideally, this should be a place that you can open up a sacred grove in, leave, and return to throughout the day and one where nobody else will disturb for the day (e.g. a spot outside or a spare bedroom). If you would like, you can set up an altar in this spot.

 

For this ritual, you should also have an offering for the land and her spirits. See this post for more on offerings. In terms of your offering, I think what you do, and how you offer, are very personal things. Offerings should be personal and tied to those spirits/deities/powers/lands/places you work with.

 

Sunrise:

Either in the early morning or just as the light is beginning to come into the world, go to your sacred space.

 

Open up a sacred grove in your tradition. For this, I suggest using whatever grove / sacred space opening you have in your tradition or using the AODA’s Solitary Grove Opening. If you do not have a dedicated spot for the three stages of ritual, I instead suggest doing the AODA’s Sphere of Protection ritual around yourself to start the ritual.

 

Make your offering in your own words. Leave your offering in your space.

 

As the sun is beginning to rise (or observing the rising sun), say, “Sunrise is a time when the sun rises from the earth.  The promise of the day is before us.  The balance between light and dark is here.  We enter the light half of the year, full of promise and possibility.”

 

Pause, continuing to observe the sun. Then say, “As the sun rises with possibility, I call upon this moment to provide me fluidity, flexibility, and the ability to adapt to a radically changing world. I now intone the ancient word for flow: “Gywar (GOO-yar), Gywar, Gwyar.” (Chant this as much as you feel led).

 

Stand facing the sun, and feel its rays upon your skin. Observe how the light continues to change as the sun rises. Feel the possibility of this moment. Pay attention to how the winds flow upon the land, and how the land awakens. Spend some time in mediation as the sun rises, drawing upon the fluidity and flexibility of this moment.

 

Say a Prayer of Flow (By Dana O’Driscoll):

Let me be like the waters,
Let me move like the sea,
Let me flow with the currents,
Let my spirit be free

Let me fly like an eagle
Let me buzz like a bee
Let me swim like an otter
Let my spirit be free

When the world is crushing
And I am unable to see
Let me flow like the river,
Let the awen flow in me!

 

When you are finished, leave the sacred space and go about your day until the mid-day sun.

 

Noon:

Enter your sacred space. Take a few moments to come back into your ritual mindset through deep breathing and quieting your mind.

 

Say, “Noon-day is when the power of the sun is at its zenith. This is when the sun’s rays offer life and vitality to all.  As the sun is at its height, I call upon this moment to provide me vitality, strength, and energy.  I now intone the ancient word for the lifeforce, “Nwyfre (NOO-iv-ruh), Nywfre, Nywfre.”

 

At this point, spend some moments in the light of the sun.  Soak in the sun’s vital rays, and observe the leaves and plant life upon the landscape and their interaction with the sun.  You might feel led to do some movement meditation, dance, or another vitalizing movement at this time.  when you feel the work is complete,  say the Druid’s Prayer:

 

Grant, O Spirits, your protection
And in protection, strength
And in strength, understanding
And in understanding, knowledge
And in knowledge, the knowledge of justice
And in the knowledge of justice, the love of it
And in the love of it, the love of all existences
And in the love of all existences, the love of earth our mother and all Goodness.

 

Chant three Awens (Ahh-oh-en) <As you chant the Awens, feel this vitalizing force settle deeply within you.>

 

Leave the sacred space until sunset.

 

Sunset: Arrive just as the sun is setting, where it is just beginning to touch the edge of the horizon.

 

Say, “Sunset is a time when the sun meets the earth.  As the sun enter’s the earth’s embrace, I call upon this moment to provide me grounding, stability, and peace.  I now intone the ancient word for grounding: Calas (CAY-lass), Calas, Calas.”(Chant this as much as you feel led).

 

At this point, if you can, lay or sit upon the ground.  Feel the solidity of the ground beneath your feet.  Feel the deepening darkness on the landscape.  Spend some time in meditation as the darkness comes.  As the darkness comes, feel the womb of the earth supporting you, grounding you, and providing you peace.

 

When you are finished with your meditation, say the Druid’s Peace Prayer (this is my own variant):

 

“Deep within the still center of my being may I find peace.” <Pause, feeling the peace within you>

“Quietly, within the circle of this grove, may I share peace.” <Pause, feeling the peace within this space>

“Gently within the circle of all life, may I radiate peace.” <Pause, feeling the peace emanating from you outward.”

 

Close your sacred space (using your own tradition or using the AODA’s solitary grove closing ritual).

Single Moment Variant

Sunset

The above ritual uses three moments in time to call upon the druid elements and uses druid prayer (mostly traditional, one new one) to help connect to those energies.  I suggest removing the first two druids prayers, finishing instead with just the Druid’s Peace Prayer, and using visualization techniques for each of the moments where you would otherwise be in the sun. I also suggest using a drum, bell or another instrument to shift between the three points of the sun’s path across the sky.

 

Here is the adapted ritual.

 

Open up your sacred space and make your offering.  For this, I suggest using whatever grove / sacred space opening you have in your tradition or using the AODA’s Solitary Grove Opening.

 

Make your offering in your own words.

 

Say: “Sunrise is a time when the sun rises from the earth.  The promise of the day is before us.  The balance between light and dark is here.  We enter the light half of the year, full of promise and possibility.”

 

“As the sun rises with possibility, I call upon this moment to provide me fluidity, flexibility, and the ability to adapt to a radically changing world.  I now intone the ancient word for flow: “Gywar (GOO-yar), Gywar, Gwyar.” (Chant this as much as you feel led).

 

Envision the most beautiful sunrise you have ever seen. Feel the possibility and anticipation of the sun at the start of the new day.  Bring this possibility, flow, and energy into your life.

 

Pause, play a few notes on your instrument, ring a bell or singing bowl.  When you are ready to proceed:

 

Say, “Noon-day is when the power of the sun is at its zenith. This is when the sun’s rays offer life and vitality to all.  As the sun is at its height, I call upon this moment to provide me vitality, strength, and energy.  I now intone the ancient word for the lifeforce, “Nwyfre (NOO-iv-ruh), Nywfre, Nywfre.”

 

At this point, envision the sun at its highest point on a warm summer day.  Envision yourself soaking in the sun’s vital rays. You might feel led to do some movement meditation, dance, or another vitalizing movement at this time.

 

Pause, play again a few notes on your instrument, ring a bell, or use a singing bowl.  When you are ready to proceed:

 

Say, “Sunset is a time when the sun meets the earth.  As the sun enter’s the earth’s embrace, I call upon this moment to provide me grounding, stability, and peace.  I now intone the ancient word for grounding: Calas (CAY-lass), Calas, Calas.”(Chant this as much as you feel led).

 

At this point, if you can, lay or sit upon the ground.  Feel the solidity of the ground beneath your feet.  Envision a beautiful sunset, the most beautiful sunset you have ever seen, in your mind’s eye.  Envision that sun setting, and feel the deepening darkness on the landscape.  Feel the womb of the earth supporting you, grounding you, and providing you peace.

 

When you are finished with your meditation, say the Druid’s Peace Prayer (this is my own variant):

 

“Deep within the still center of my being may I find peace.” <Pause, feeling the peace within you>

“Quietly, within the circle of this grove, may I share peace.” <Pause, feeling the peace within this space>

“Gently within the circle of all life, may I radiate peace.” <Pause, feeling the peace emanating from you outward.”

 

Close your sacred space (using your own tradition or using the AODA’s solitary grove closing ritual)

The Moon’s Sunbeams, or, Reflections on the Solar Eclipse

In the druid tradition, we recognize that the solar currents, those currents of energy coming from the sun, are extremely powerful. And so, when the sun in the noon-day sky suddenly darkens, ancient peoples saw it as an incredibly bad omen. Dragons eating the sun, battles bewteen the gods, portents of other evil and pestilence across the land accompanied a solar eclipse. Given some of the extremely shocking and difficult events and the rise of hatred in the US of the months and weeks leading up to this eclipse, one could approach it with some trepidation. I wanted to share a bit of a druid’s perspective on the eclipse today.

Forest eclipse pattern

Forest eclipse pattern

The Solar Current’s Power

In his new book Secret of the Temple, John Michael Greer describes how temples were designed with particular features to channel the energy of the sun down and radiate it out across the land in blessing.  In AODA, for example, our main seasonal celebrations do this same work: bringing down the light of the sun to radiate it out upon the work.  While this is how AODA and the druid revival frame the solar and telluric currents, these ideas are certainly much older.

 

Given the worship and reverence to the sun in so many ancient people’s lives, it certainly is not surprising that if the sun suddenly blackened in the middle of the day, it would be an ill omen indeed.  What if the light didn’t return? People wouldn’t survive long in darkness.  For that brief moment, the utterly consistent sun appeared like it was being blackened from the sky.

A Simple Eclipse Ritual

Today, our grove met to do ritual during the eclipse.  at our grove deep within the state forest.  Our grove has an ancient Sugar Maple tree in the center and is an easy 15 minute hike in from the trail head.  When we met, we were in the sun by the lake, but decided to go into the grove and do the ritual while the eclipse was taking place.  Our ritual was simple: we did a simple grove opening.  I played the flute and my two friends worked to radiate light into the world, particularly focusing on our human world.  We did this for a time, and then paused to note the changes in the forest floor–the patterns became ripply at first, like waves in the ocean.

Amazing forest floor sunbeams!

Amazing forest floor sunbeams!

After that, we continued our ritual.  The second part of the ritual was also simple: we recognized the value of self care in these times, and we smudged each other.  Then we used a lavender hydrosol to bring clarity and focus for our journey ahead.  At this point, we closed out the grove and did an eclipse walk as the darkest point of the eclipse came into focus.

Walking in an Eclipse

The land stilled.  Everything grew quiet. Walking in the woods during the eclipse was incredible.  The sun’s rays of light behaved more like the moon.  It was if the sun and moon’s roles were reversed.  We didn’t have any fancy glasses or self-made boxes or welder’s masks.  We didn’t need any of that.  All that we needed were the trees and the light filtering through them.  We saw the eclipse much like our ancestors did–through the gentle light of the trees.  When the breeze blew, the little crescent moons turned into waves on the forest floor.  My friends and I danced in the sun’s moonbeams (or was it the moon’s sunbeams), frolicking along the forest path.

 

It was one of the most magical things I have ever seen.

Eclipse at full strength

Eclipse at full strength

 

The Moon’s Sunbeams (or Sun’s Moonbeams)

Experiencing the extremely magical eclipse in the forest taught me a valuable lesson–I had been feeling rather “doom and gloomy” about the world as well as about some other personal losses that happened in the last two weeks.  I felt like the eclipse was there to continue the pattern, to burn my retnas, to plunge my soul into darkness, to plunge the world into chaos, much like the Ancient peoples believed.  I had been reading too much online, letting some of the darkness of the recent events lodge within my soul.

 

And then, I went out to experience the actual eclipse.  And my heart was filled with joy as the moon’s sunbeams, or the sunny moonbeams, or whatever you want to call the flickering and wavering crescents of light, came down on that forest floor.  We might have went into that forest with heavy hearts and to do a ritual of light.  But the sun and forest surprised us with its own light.

 

It was a powerful experience, not just to see an incredible rare and glorious event of seeing the forest while an eclipse is going on.  But because it taught us, once again, about the healing power of nature.  Sun had no less power when she was behind the moon (or behind a cloud, for that matter).  She simply had different power, focused power, and it was a sight to behold!   So friends, keep your spirits high in these dark times.  Dance in the light of the sun and moon, and let your spirit soar.

Crescent Sunbeams, courtesy of the Moon

Crescent Sunbeams, courtesy of the Moon

 

Ode to the Rooster

The Chinese New Year is now being celebrated, and it is once again the Year of the Rooster. I see this as a tremendously positive and powerful sign–a message of light and hope in this time of darkness. In honor of the rooster, I offer two stories that demonstrate how powerful and protective the rooster is–and how the rooster’s energy this year can lend us power and strength to drive back the dark. So now, pull up a chair by the fire, and hear two stories of roosters and their magic.

Painting of Anasazi Rooster

Painting of Anasazi Rooster

As I mentioned a few blog posts ago, a group of us held an all night vigil for the winter solstice.  This is not an easy ritual–it is about 15 hours of darkness, in the cold months of the year. Our ritual started well enough: we had a glorious sunset, a lovely ceremony, a great feast that put warm food in the belling, and music, storytelling and conversation by the fire. That got us from about 5pm till about 11pm, and folks started going home to their warm beds, until only a core group of five of us were still present for the long haul till sunrise at 7:30am. We sat in the hours and hours of darkness with nothing but the fire to keep us company while the Yule Log burned away into coals. The moon continued to come across the sky, ever-so-slowly.

 

In those deep and dark hours, as you are holding vigil, a number of things happen within and without. For one, the time can be altered–the night is much longer than it seems, as if you had been sitting in darkness for days or weeks, not mere hours. You get lost in the darkness of your own thoughts. You wonder, in those deep, dark hours, if the sun will ever return.  The circle grows quiet, and each person battles with his or her own darkness. The darkness seems all encompassing. More than once we asked, silently or to each other, will the sun ever return? Will this long night ever end?  For it is in this darkness that we face our fears, our sadness, and our sorrow. And it is this darkness that can hold so much power over us. This vigil experience parallels, to a large extent, what so many are facing now as darkness seems to be descending upon us culturally.

 

And then, suddenly, close to 4AM, as we were still wrapped in the swirling darkness of the night, a call came out, ringing across the fields. A call that brought us back into our own bodies, back to the presence of our loved ones and the fire–a call that promised the return of the sun. That was the call of the rooster: cock-a-doodle-doo! One of the farm’s roosters, before the sun was anywhere near ready to rise, let us know that everything was going to be alright–for he was here to work his magic and to raise the sun. We heard him, and the inner darkness began to recede. He continued his calls every 15 or 20 or so minutes, letting us know the sun would rise again and he was seeing to it personally. The second rooster on the farm, a tiny fellow with the cutest little high-pitched crow, began his own crowing as we grew closer to the morning rays of light. The two of them, in unison, called up the sun.  All we could do was wait for them to finish their work.

 

As the gray turned to blue and the blue to yellow, the little rooster came down from his tree where he roosts at night and stood on the fence behind us, looking at us with his orange rooster eye, and he crowed and crowed until that sun came up above the mountains. If roosters weren’t there to pull up the sun in the depths of that solstice morning, I am not sure it would be able to rise at all. I thought then, about the millions of roosters across the land bringing up the sun in an ever-moving circle.

Rooster who crows up the sun!

Rooster who crows up the sun!

This experience resonated so powerfully with me partially because these were not the first magical roosters that I had encountered. Although I had raised chickens as a child, and grew up with them as friends at my parent’s homestead, we never had roosters, for fear of what they neighbors would think and their crowing. So we kept hens, and I loved those hens, each and every one of them.  When I came to my new homestead in Michigan seven years ago, I did as we had done before–purchased some day-old peeps, all hens, so that I could have a new chicken flock for companionship, eggs, garden assistance, and most of all, joy.  Roosters hadn’t yet crossed my path, or my mind!

 

My little hens stayed at first in my art studio in a warm large box with straw and a heat lamp. Since it was already summer, they got to go into the garden each day and search for bugs, bathe in the beds, and bask in the summer sun. After two weeks, they grew too large for their box and were moved to a larger area in my garage. Each day, they would get to go outside and enjoy the sun. We continued this pattern as they grew feathers on their wings and tails, and then on their bodies, as their little combs and wattles started to grow red.  Soon, they were like little miniature chickens, running around, enjoying bugs and scratching at the dirt.

The girls when they were young, before the rooster came

The girls when they were young, before the rooster came

It was soon after they moved into their permanent coop at 12 weeks old, that the rooster first came. I spotted him from a distance–a beautiful rooster with large cockle spurs, a gold/orange head, his body giving way to black with bold green and blue highlights and gray feet. He had a magnificent comb and bright orange-yellow eyes. And he saw me, and my little hens, and let out a crow. I had no idea who this rooster was; I had no experiences with roosters. I sat and watched him, and he stood and watched me. The hens crowded behind me, afraid. And in their fear, I realized he must be a scoundrel, not a gentleman.  I told him,”my hens are too young for you! Stay back!” And he listened, but watched them intently.

Beautiful Rooster!

Beautiful Rooster!

Each day as summer turned to fall, the rooster would mysteriously show up.  He never came too close to me, or to the hens, but he stayed at a distance and every so often, let out a glorious crow. With each visit, he inched a little closer to the hens.  But each night, just as mysteriously as he arrived, he vanished down the road, disappearing quite quickly.  Like clockwork, each morning I was awakened with his crowing–there he proudly stood on top of the coop, asking me to let the ladies out. I did so, and watched as they came near him, looking at me with questions in their eyes. I continued to wonder, as before, if he was a gentleman or a scoundrel.

 

I called up my neighbor who had a farm, with many roosters and hens.  He lived in the same direction where the rooster mysteriously disappeared each night.  My neighbor told me, “Yeah, he was mine all right. But he was too gentle and the other roosters kicked him out of the flock in the fall.  Now, he lives in the tree near my house. I can’t believe he’s alive–he spent the whole winter in the tree by himself!” I responded, “Do you want him any longer?” And he said, “If you can catch him, you can keep him. But best of luck catching him–nobody can get close to him, even to feed him! That rooster’s something else.”

 

And so, I knew what my task was to be–wooing this beautiful rooster into the homestead as a permanent addition–after all, he had already made himself at home here on my land, and now I just had to find a way to keep him here. I figured that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, so I began to offer tasty morsels of food when he showed up for his daily visit. Eventually, trust grew between us, and he allowed me to get within 10 or 15 feet of him. Trust grew between he and my hens as well, and they began foraging closer together, and they grew to understand that he was going to protect them. But every night, as before, he disappeared down the road. Perhaps this story would be better if he disappeared at the stroke of midnight or turned into a pumpkin or something, but that was not the way of things.

Where is that roo?

Where is that handsome roo?

Eventually, he began coming to me for food, and then I knew I had him. I threw some food into the run of the coop, and in went the rooster and the hens. I quietly closed the gate to the run while they were busy enjoying the food, and then tossed more into the coop itself.  He refused to go in.  I waited. The sun began to set, and he looked at me, knowing if it grew too dark, he couldn’t return to his tree 1/4 mile away.  But then, the hens went into their coop.  He followed them and I locked them all in. The hens piled all into one of the nest boxes and looked at me with a look that said, “You really just locked HIM in here with US?” and I smiled at them and wished them all a good rest.

 

I kept them all in the run for the next few days so that the new roo would see this as home, and after the third day, I let them back out to free range. The real test would be to see how they were getting along and if he ended up back in his tree. He did not, but instead, crowed around the coop four times, once in every direction. A good rooster, indeed.

Coming out of the coop together!

Coming out of the coop together!

I had named each of my chickens different names of beans, in honor of “bean” who was one of my most beloved chickens as a child (she knew her name and came when you called; she once got attacked by the neighbor’s dog and the vet had to put 37 stitches in her and she lived another 4 years!).  Each of the chickens then, was a bean or pulse: Lima, Adzuki, Pinto, and Lentil. And, in honor of a beautiful bean I was growing in the garden that I just harvested for the winter months, I named the rooster Anasazi.

 

The next years of my life were good ones. I quickly began realizing how many hawks we had in MI (never a problem in PA), and Anasazi repeatedly demonstrated his worth.  He would let out a shrill call and the hens would run.  He was, in fact, a gentleman, finding food and calling the hens to him to share it–saving for them always the most tasty grubs and best morsels.  He was not rough with the hens, as some roosters are apt to be.  He danced around them contentedly and put on a show before mating. Once, a neighbor’s dog came for the flock and he threw himself at the dog and then led it far away to keep the hens safe. I started wondering how I ever had got on without a rooster–and the truth is, I would have lost my whole flock that first summer to predators without him.

Dust bath

Dust bath

Anasazi worked magic on the land. When I would go out in the morning to do my daily ritual, Anasazi was there, crowing at each of the four quarters, and once each for above, below, and within. Each time he crowed, he helped protect the land and the homestead, and we were all safer with him there. He helped herd and guide the hens. He would lead the hens into the sacred stone circle, they would forage once around in a circle, and then exit at the appropriate gate. I began to understand the importance of his early morning crows to raise the sun–Anasazi had tremendous power in the sun, but no power in the darkness. He was a being of protection and of the solar current.

 

I grew quite unhappy in Michigan and was contemplating whether to stay or to consider applying for a job in Western PA, the land of my blood and birth. One night, not long after I began considering this, a badger broke into the coop in the darkest hours.  The coop was far enough away from the house that I did not hear what happened and remained sound asleep. But in the morning, I found the door literally ripped off of its hinges.  Inside, intact but frightened, were all of the hens–and not a trace left of Anasazi. In his life and in his death he protected his flock above all else. His death was a powerful sign for me–a sign that I had to move on, from my beloved homestead, returning to the mountains of my birth. For I realized that I could not run my homestead without Anasazi; he was such an integral part that it was not the same without him. My dear hens found good homes with a friend, and I packed up my things and headed East towards the rising sun, back to the mountains where I belong.

 

It has taken me three years to write about Anasazi’s tale, because, until I experienced the rooster calls this past Winter Solstice, I still did not fully understand all that happened and all of the rooster’s power and magic. However, I know this for certain: I am thankful that the rooster is guiding us this year, of all years, for I would rather be under no other being’s protection. I know that those of us, in the US and in many other places in the world, are facing times of tremendous darkness. I point to the roosters in my first story, those who brought us holding vigil out of darkness and who crowed up the sun, as a sign of hope and light in these dark times. I also point to Anasazi, who protected his flock against any harm, and know that we, too, can be under the protection of the rooster this year.

The Summer Solstice Sunrise: A Journey and Ritual of Illumination

All of us are on a journey. Perhaps it is a physical journey, traveling to distant shores or a new home. Perhaps it is an emotional journey, a journey of the heart and of healing. Perhaps it is a journey of self discovering or self fulfillment. Perhaps it is a spiritual journey to reconnect with the living earth. At each moment of the wheel of the year, the sun, too, is on a journey–to rise and fall. On the moment of the summer solstice, the sun rises at the apex of his power.

 

Incredible sunrise in the mountains with the windmills

Incredible sunrise in the Allegheny mountains with the windmills

I have found that going on a journey, a physical one, to see the summer solstice sunrise is an extremely powerful initiation into deeper mysteries at the time of the summer solstice–including 3 days before, and 3 days after. My summer solstice ceremony is quite simple–well before dawn you do a night hike (not using any artificial illumination) to a high point, where you watch the sun rise and be illuminated as it occurs (I’ll share more specifics of the ceremony below).

 

I see this night hike seeking the illumination of the Solstice Sunrise as the same kind of ceremony as an all night vigil at the Winter Solstice (which I will talk about near the winter solstice)–in both cases, some of the work is readying yourself to be greeted by the rising sun.  It is the journey that matters, for illumination only happens after deep reflection and a long path traveled.  This is one path of initiation, the path into deeper mysteries, communion, and wholeness.

 

The Solstice Sunrise Journey

Choosing the Right Day. In terms of the timing of the whole ceremony, there are a few considerations.  First is the consideration about the day of the solstice–which not all people can manage, due to work obligations. I’ve done this anywhere from 3 days before to 3 days after the summer solstice (although I really try to get it “on the mark” if possible). This year, my first of these hikes (I expect to do at least one more) was 3 days before. The other consideration, of course, is whether or not it’s raining.  Sometimes a light rain is actually ok (that’s what happened to me on the one I’ll describe below) because the sun rose up, was beautiful, and then skirted into the clouds and the rain came down more.  But if it’s an outright downpour, you might want to wait for this particular ceremony (although I will likely still go out; I found bunches of Elderflowers last year at the summer solstice on a rainy morning when the cloud cover prevented me from witnessing any sunrise!)

 

Location. Location to me is one of the most important considerations for this kind of summer solstice ceremony. I usually scope out the location of my journey potentially months in advance, often finding the “right spot” sometime during my hikes earlier that year or even in the fall of the year before.  (Sometimes, the location finds me and I’m at the right place and the right time, like it did this year!)   For me, the perfect spot as an Appalachian mountain druid is one of high elevation, above the valley, where I can see an amazing panoramic view.

 

Scoping out your Spot and Hike. Visiting your spot in advance is important for a few reasons: one, as a night hike, you are going to be needing to rely on senses other than sight to get yourself up to the place where you are going. And having memories of something you traveled only a day or two before helps you through the night hike.  But second, it is about timing. You need to know how long it takes you to get up to your spot so that you can make sure you don’t miss it.  I missed it a few times because I was still hiking rather than sitting and witnessing the rising sun.  You need a lot more time than you need, and sunrise happens actually kind of quickly!

 

Still dark as I approach my viewing spot

Still dark as I approach my viewing spot

The Night Hike. Yes, you can do this, you can do it without a flashlight, and you can do it alone (or with a group).  Once your eyes adjust, you will be surprised at how effective they are at seeing in the darkness–we just don’t do it much these days.  So turn off the electronics and lights, and use your full senses to get where you are going.  This is an important part of the journey.  To me, it represents the long journey we need to have in order to reach illumination.  It also gives me great insight about myself, how I deal with problems, and so on.  You might stumble, you might run into some cobwebs, and you might be fearful of things in the dark–but trust me, this part of the ritual is worth it.  If you are traveling with a group, grove, circle, family, etc, I would suggest that you agree to do the walk in silence so that each person can experience their own journey unfolding.

 

The timing of the night hike is critical.  Ideally, you should leave an hour before sunrise, spend 15-25 minutes getting where you are going and then sit, watching the sunrise unfold fully, over the next 30-45 minutes.  Each part of the sunrise is a tapestry of colors, especially on this most magical day.  Each sunrise has a unique message for you.  The problem I’ve had in the past with this ceremony is that sometimes I don’t wake up early enough to make it happen, and then I’m still hiking and missing the sunrise.  Trust me–for this ceremony, the extra 30 minutes of sleep is simply not worth it.

 

Now, once you get to the top, if you have the time, for added punch, you can do a short ceremony.  I like to do the AODA’s sphere of protection before the sunrise, meditate and say the druid’s prayer for peace while the sunrise is rising, and then, as the sun rises higher into the air, do the OBOD’s light body exercise.

 

Illumination. The forest (or wherever you are) appears differently at the edge spaces between day and night; dusk and dawn are powerful times.  This allows you to enter a sacred space and experience some form of illumination, presence, and communion with the spirits of the land.  This is very individual, so I’m not going to say more here except listen, observe, and be open to whatever unfolds.

 

The sunrise peeking through the trees!

The sunrise peeking through the trees!

My first Solstice Sunrise journey this year took place the week leading up to the Solstice, and it was certainly unplanned. I had been at a research writing retreat for my research team (this is a yearly thing we do, since we are scattered all over the country) and we had rented a house in a very wooded and secluded area on one of the Appalachian ridges near Berkeley Springs, WV. I had done some walking while at the retreat, and had noted the sharp rise of the mountain behind our cabin. One morning, after it was light, I walked up there and spent several hours, and received the clear message that although it was a bit earlier for my solstice walk, indeed I was do to the solstice walk and journey up to the ridge where I could see the scene unfolding through the trees. That night, I had three powerful dreams, messages that are in line with something I’ve been working toward for many years.  The last of which woke me up at 4:30am (and sunrise was at 5:45 that morning), just 5 minutes shy of when I had set my alarm. I pulled on my clothes and shoes, carried some water from the spring, and began my journey up the mountain. There was no real path, but it was a serious climb, and I had to stop a few times to catch my breath as I continued my ascent. By 5:10, I had reached the spot where there were a few windows through the now-sparse trees, and a perfect spot to see the rising sun. Rocks were everywhere this far up on the ridge, and I found a nice one to sit and observe. After an hour of observation, the energy shifted, my work was done. The rains came, and I went down to join my team for breakfast.

 

I hope this ceremony and perspective on the summer solstice is useful as you plan your own solstice journey!  I’ve published it a few days before the solstice, so you should have some planning time if you want to try it.  I’d love to hear your thoughts and also your own ways that you celebrate the summer solstice!

 

PS: The Ancient Order of Druids in America just released its third volume of Trilithon, the order’s official journal.  I serve as Chief editor for the journal, and it is packed full of amazing articles about the druid path, earth-centered living, and more. I would highly recommend you check it out!

Cycles of the Sun and the Moon in Our Lives

Humans evolved in alignment with the movement of the sun and the moon. As the sun moved, so did human camps of hunters and gathers. As the sun moved, so still move many birds, fish, and mammals as they migrate to avoid the biting cold. As the moon moved, so do the cycles within our bodies, the tides and flows, and wildlife. The sun and moon cycles are literally woven into our blood, into our DNA, and however disconnected some of humanity currently is from the cycles of the sun and moon, they are still there, ever present. How many friends or co-workers still talk about the full moon and how intense people get? How many people in the USA celebrate thanksgiving and a harvest season? How many people feel like staying inside during the darkest time of the year? The cycles of the celestial heavens are there, shining each day, if we only heed them. So today, I’d like to spend some time reflecting on the cycle of the sun in our lives, and how we can use this cycle within and without. This is especially pertinent because, at least where I live, the grumblings of winter have already begun and reflection helps us through the cold and the dark times.

 

The Moon and the Sun’s phases repeat themselves throughout our lives (whether or not we want them to), and we can see their same patterns occurring again and again. The graphic that I’ve used as a teaching tool that accompanies this post helps explain one way we can interpret these phases of the sun (and also we can apply this to understanding the moon phases as well). These are my own interpretations, but they are drawn from many years of living by the seasons as a homesteader, herbalist, and wild food forager, as well as 10 years of study in two druid orders, where we celebrate and meditate upon the cycle of the seasons.  Even if you don’t celebrate these events as holidays, they still have much to teach all of us in terms of life cycles.

Wheel of the Sun

Wheel of the Sun

The yearly cycle of the sun encourages us to understand that there are times of scarcity and abundance in our natural world, that there are times of high energy and growth and times of death and quietude, and that everything has a season. Why does winter come? So the trees and land can rest before spring is reborn anew. This cycle encourages us to understand that we must have both of these times in our lands and in our lives. The summer solstice (Alban Hefin in the druid tradition) is the high point of energy of the year, with the longest day. The winter solstice is the low point of energy of the year, with the longest night. On either mid-point, we have the equinoxes–the explosive growth and time of new beginnings at the spring equinox, and the harvest and reaping rewards and winding down at the fall equinox. The Sun’s full phase takes 365.256 days, and often teaches us lessons that are more long-term in nature (as each “year older” we are is a passing full phase of the sun); while the Moon’s full phase is 28 days (with each phase 7.38 days), and mirrors the phases of the sun in a shorter period of time. As the moon goes from dark to full and back again, it energetically creates periods of growth and beginnings, building energy, peaking energy, falling energy, and quietude.

 

Each of these phases is consistent, unavoidable, and part of the human experience. I think we’ve forgotten this quite a bit in our modern world, where each day is regimented into work weeks and we are always supposed to be at our peak performance. Dear workplace and modern life, it is not always high summer in our lands–why should you expect high summer performance 365 days a year? There isn’t a time for rest, there isn’t a time for reflection–its just go, go, go. Modern life gives us no time for anything but full “high summer energy” from us, and yet, that’s not realistic of human limitations and needs. This unrealistic expectation and leads to the glorification of busyness and the burnout of so many of us.

 

I think its interesting that we talk about it as a sun cycle, because that’s how we see it from earth. But its really an earth cycle that we are talking about–the movement of the earth around the stationary sun. The cycles are affected by the sun, but they are really earth cycles–how the sun is impacting the earth. The sun is masculine, and it is protective in nature. The moon, on the other hand, revolves around the earth and is impacted by earth much moreso than the sun–and the moon is the passive and feminine principle. So even the movement of the celestial bodies themselves reflect the principles they embody.

 

One of the wheel’s main lessons is that everything comes in a season and a cycle—if we feel we are in a time of darkness (as we might find ourselves in the Winter Solstice), we know that this will pass and that the sun will eventually be bright and full again. The cycle of the Sun, therefore, provides us the promise of change and growth.  Let’s take a look at each of these periods of time:

 

Balancing and Planning: Its during the Spring Equinox (March 21st) that we can first look to the start to a new season and begin to cultivate plans in our lives. The spring is a time where, after the long rest and rejuvenation of winter, we are able to start anew and build new ideas.  When we are excitedly making plans for the future, the message of balance is a critical one, and one that physically manifests during this period. In the physical landscape, by this point, farmers and gardeners have ordered their seeds and have begun to start them; and while we don’t see much in the way of new growth in many places in the Northern Hemisphere, the melting snows and returning light show the promise of spring. I remember on my homestead in Michigan, as soon as the pond ice would melt around this time period, you would see life in the pond. The water was only a few degrees above freezing and the ground was still covered with snow, but there was all this moving about on the warm edges of the melted water!

 

Sowing: May 1st marks the point where the “spring” energy is really coming back into the land. Traditional celebrations around May 1st (May Day) involve many fertility symbols, like the maypole or the Beltane fires. The energy of this time isn’t only about physical fertility, but rather how we might sow seeds for many other kinds of things: creative projects, more positive relationships, finding ways of expressing ourselves, and more. This is the time when the flowers come back, when the nectar begins to flow, and when green is slowly returned to our lands.

 

Energizing and Growth: With the sun shining at its brightest and strongest of the year on June 21st, the Summer Solstice is a time of energizing and growth! The sun provides Vitamin D, a critical nutrient that supports strong bones and teeth—the very foundation of our bodies. Upwards of 60% of Americans are deficient in Vitamin D–we are all in need of more sun. Spending time observing nature at this time shows us that we are in the height of summer—the first summer berries are in, the plants are growing vigorously, the trees are thick and lush, and much herbal medicine is ready.

 

Celebrating: Its not surprising that July and August are traditionally the months where people take a vacation—these months, even in a traditional society—were less busy than the coming fall harvest season. We don’t take enough times in our lives to truly just celebrate the positive things in our lives and simply spend time with those we care about—and this period of the sun’s cycle (around August 1st) encourages us to do this. These are the lazy days of summer, before schools begin again, when there is time to camp, to frolic in the fields, and to enjoy the coming harvest.

 

Balancing and Harvest: With all the work of planting, sowing, and growth comes the expectation and excitement of the harvest—when all of our hard work pays off. The land, too, is literally bursting at the seams in late August and throughout September with many of the traditional foods that would sustain people through the long winter: nuts, fruits, apples, pumpkins, winter squash, potatoes, and more. The Fall equinox (Sept 21st) also marks the point where we move from the light half to the dark half of the year—and a time for us reflecting and regaining balance in our lives.

 

Composting: We are uncomfortable with compost in this culture. Things are thrown away, discarded, but not always composted. The lesson of this time in the sun’s cycle can be a difficult but necessary one. As things that are no longer needed or no longer serve us build up around us, it is critical to clear them away and transform them so that we can move forward in our lives. Composting, in a physical sense, is what happens when the trees drop their leaves each season—these leaves turn into soil over time and that soil is host to a whole web of life. In the life of a farmer or gardener, this is when you clear out the old annual plants, trim things back, mulch your perennials, and prepare for the cold season—this is necessary work if anything is to grow. Failure to clear out the old prevents the new from coming forth. And by Samhain around November 1st, the land (at least where I live) is cold and appearing lifeless.

 

Resting: Despite modern surrounding productivity and cultural values encouraging staying busy and being workaholics; the lesson we learn from the sun cycles is that in order to be abundant and produce a harvest, we must rest, and this rest must be equal to every other phase in our lives. It is at this point, during the darkest night of the year (December 21st), that we can look to nature for guidance. The trees are still, their roots growing deeper into the earth; the perennial plants are alive and yet resting in their toots; living off of the stored nutrients of the past year. The beehive is sealed up, living off of honey stores, waiting for spring. Even many animals rest and hibernate during this part of the year. Without this resting period, the land would quickly be worn out. Without rest, we too are quickly worn out. This period of the sun’s cycle also provides an additional lesson: this is the time of darkness on our lands, but it is a naturally occurring process. This does not suggest that the dark are evil or to be avoided—they are a natural parts of our lives, and we can learn from them—and look forward to the sun’s light again.

 

Rejuvenating: As part of our rest in the dark half of the year, we need to find ways of rejuvenating our bodies, our minds, and our spirits—and February 1st is a perfect time to do this: light candles, take hot bubble baths, drink warm teas, find creative time, and get a weekend away! Rest is different than rejuvenation—after a period of rest, we are ready to inspire ourselves, treat ourselves, and start to look ahead.

 

Even if our lives in practice don’t reflect the cycles of the sun, what they do reflect for us is the importance of these periods of time in our lives. Do we get real relaxation? Do we get to nurture our own creative energies and birth things in the world? Do we have times to celebrate, to harvest, to compost, and to simply be still? The sun is there, each day, teaching us its careful and patient lesson. The moon, too, is always in her phase bringing in her quiet light. These cycles give us deeper understanding of ourselves, and principles to live by, principles that can help us create harmony and balance in our lives every day of the year.

 

I like to take time regularly to reflect upon the sun and moon cycles in my life. They help me balance, they remind me to rest, they comfort me when the composting or dark times are happening. I hope they do the same for you.

 

For more writings on the yearly cycles, see my posts on the Druid Wheel of the Year, a guided meditation, and Sustainable Activities for the Fall Equinox, Winter Solstice, Spring Equinox, and Summer Solstice.

Living the Wheel of the Year: Spiritual and Sustainable Practices for the Summer Solstice

The Summer Solstice, what we call “Alban Hefin” in the Druid Revival tradition, marks the beginning of high summer in my part of the world, and many activities of this time period focus on harvesting and honoring the power of the sun and thinking about the energy present in our lives.  This is the time of light, laughter, growth, and movement!  This is the time when people are outside, doing things, enjoying the warmth that the sun provides.  The summer solstice gives us many opportunities to deepen our awareness and connection with the land and understand the relationship between earth and sky. (For my blog readers living in the southern hemisphere, see my post on the Winter Solstice for more appropriate activities for your Solstice!) Here are some activities that allow us to live in both a spiritual and sustainable manner:

 

Gathered herbs for drying!

Gathered herbs for drying!

1) Solstice herb gathering and medicine making.  Some of my favorite plant allies are coming into bloom at the solstice and are ready to harvest–garden herbs like mint, lemon balm, sage, and thyme.  Many leafy allies like strawberry leaf, raspberry leaf, plantain, and violet leaf–four of my most important leafy herbs for healing. Elder flower is typically also in full bloom–a critical medicinal. I always gather these on the summer solstice.  These are all gentle herbs: strawberry leaf is a gentle astringent, great for conjunctivitis; violet leaf is a gentle demulcent, which coats and soothes (also good for conjunctivitis); plantain does a bit of everything (more on this plant soon); raspberry leaf is great for women’s issues; elder flower aids the body during influenza (and these plants all do so much more). I harvest these, tincture them, or dry them in a dehydrator or solar dehydrator.

 

2) Explore solar cooking. Solar cooking was quite a big deal back before electricity, and even in the 1970’s in the USA–and for good reason: anytime we can use the sun over gas, electric, or wood, we will have minimized our impact on the land. Even more–since we now cook with gas, and a lot gas is extracted through fracking, the less demand we can create for gas, the better. One of my friends has a great solar cooker oven from the 1970’s and we’ve had fun cooking beans, casseroles, and more in it–I hope to build one of my own sometime soon.  Even a super-simple design, a cardboard box with tin foil, can make a very effective solar oven.  I’ve been working on such an oven (using plans found here) to process my beeswax from my bees–solar approaches work best!

 

3) Making an energizing, herbal sun tea. Because the sun is an energizing force of nature, and because it is at its height on the day of the solstice, I like to make an energizing sun tea from some of those herbs. To make a sun tea, you simply place your herbs in a glass mason jar with water and let it sit in the direct sun for 4-6 hours. Dried herbs work better for teas than fresh because when they are dried, the cell walls break down. If you are using fresh herbs, you can grind them up a bit with a mortar and pestle to break down the cell walls (or put them in the freezer for about an hour–both will do the trick!). Obviously, your tea is being cooked by the energy of the sun rather than fossil fuels, which is sustainable. But its more than that–energetically, the solar current infuses the tea, allowing you to take its cleansing rays within. What I like to do is make a few different teas that day in mason jars, then leave them in the fridge and drink them over the next few days.  Its a lovely, simple ritual to do with candles, hot baths, etc–have your daily herbal energizing tea.

 

The Sun from the Tarot of Trees (my tarot deck)

The Sun from the Tarot of Trees (my hand-painted tarot deck)

What kind of tea do you want to make? As a traditional western herbalist, I believe that the tea should fit the person, their energetic state, and their needs. Here are a few possibilities based on what you are needing at the time.

 

A general revitalizing tea could include any of the following revitalizing herbs: Astragalus, nettle, ginseng, fo-ti, milky oats or oatstraw, reishi. (I usually use herbs more local, and not all of these are).  I would most certainly add raw honey after the tea was made. I would make the tea with one or more of the above and then add any of the following herbs based on what you wanted to accomplish:

  • Mental clarity/revitalizing: holy basil, lavender, sage, rosemary, passion flower
  • Rest/relaxation: Catnip, Lemon balm, blue vervain (for people who take on too much and are always busy and just need to stop), chamomile
  • Emotional revitalization: St. John’s Wort, Hawthorn, Hops, Wood Betony, Skullcap
  • Physical exhaustion: Licorice, Schizandra, Kava Kava (will be tingly in the mouth), Chamomile

So, if I had just gone through a divorce or breakup and really wanted some healing, I would start with nettles, gathered locally the day or two before the Solstice, and then, add hawthorn, st. johns wort, and lemon balm (for example). If I was really physically tired, I’d do astragalus, nettle, ginsing, and schizandra.  And so on. You can mix and match–but be warned, not all of these herbs taste awesome (reishi, for one, is an acquired taste; not everyone likes licorice, and so on). Not all of them taste particularly awesome together, so you might want to get a few jars and see what combinations you like or test in advance. You can also add less of the herb that tastes not so great–tea making is an art into and of itself!

You can also add some kind of regular tea to the herbs–like a green tea. I use red rooibos or green rooibos for this sometimes. For the herbs that aren’t locally available or ethical to harvest, you can get them from Mountain Rose Herbs.

 

Sunflower and bee!

Sunflower and bee!

4) Put up a clothesline.  There is nothing quite like the freshness of clothes that have been hung out on a line to dry. When I visited Costa Rica, families washed their clothes by hand and everywhere you went, the laundry was hanging out to dry and was beautiful in the breeze. We see this less and less in the states, and its a sad thing! This very simple act can save tremendous amounts of fossil fuel energy over the course of a year–and your clothes are blessed by the energy of the sun and wind.

 

5) Build a solar dehydrator. Solar dehydrator plans are abundant online and function on some simple premises: collecting and directing the heat of the sun for drying purposes. I have built several working prototypes of solar dehydrators out of thick cardboard and was impressed by how well even these worked (plans can be found here at Mother Earth News). My friend with the solar cooker also has built a full-scale solar dehydrator and I’ve visited farms with various sizes and models–if you have a garden, do any foraging, or practice any herbalism, these are well worth your time to construct!

 

6) Explore solar showers and hot water heaters. Solar showers and hot water heaters are another fantastic way of harnessing the sun’s energy for your comfort and to reduce your dependency on fossil fuels. These run from very simple systems; a black bag or bucket (perhaps connected to a rainwater harvest system) that has a valve, hose, and shower head, to fully elaborated systems that are integrated into someone’s house and attached to the roof. In each case, water is cycled through tubes with a black surface and then is stored till use. I’ve experimented mostly with the simple “camp” showers thus far, but I have plans for more elaborated solar shower systems in the future! If you have any kind of solar shower, the solstice is a great time to take an “energizing shower” that day!

 

The Mushroom Garden

The Mushroom Garden

7) Mushroom logs and mushroom bed cultivation. Another great activity to get into during the summer months is mushroom cultivation.  This may mean creating mushroom logs or establishing mushroom beds (see my blog posts on mushrooms here and here).  I have experimented with three kinds of mushroom cultivation: inoculating freshly-cut logs; creating a mushroom bed; and growing oysters indoors.  Kits are available for you to get started!

 

8) Rainwater harvesting. Before you begin rainwater harvesting, check the local laws in your area.  Some places have made it illegal to harvest your own rainwater (which I find abhorrent; most of these restrictions are due to lobbying by industrialized agriculture and unsustainable uses of water). Rainwater harvesting can be done in two ways: 1) through the catchment and cistern system and 2) through diverting water in the landscape itself using a raingarden or swale system (building swales to collect passively is not illegal anywhere, as far as I know).

 

I’ve been wary using a rain catchment system on my home because I had to put a new roof on the house only a few years ago and I’m not sure about the chemicals in asphalt shingles (everything I’ve read indicates its not good). When I visited Costa Rica, everyone used metal roofs and many had simple rainwater harvesting systems that diverted into their gardens.

 

The second option, the swale, is a feature you can build into the existing landscape, often on a hill.  I built mini swales into a hill behind my barn in Michigan to provide my fruit trees I planted there with extra nourishment.  I also built a runoff trench to harvest water from my gravel driveway into a mushroom garden–these worked so well, and the year we were in drought, those trees were still strong and healthy because of the extra water.

 

9.  Stormwater runoff awareness raising and monitoring. Stormwater is a huge environmental issue that has gotten little attention or notice, and with high summer comes more and more storms. As we create more and more houses, more and more paved streets and parking lots, water has less chance to absorb directly into the ground and more toxins run from the streets into our waterways. This causes substantial problems for our water, and as we have become so painfully aware of in recent years, water is a scarce resource worth protecting.  One way we can protect our waterways is with better stormwater management. We can address this in our own landscapes and also in our communities by educating ourselves and taking action.  Part of the reason this is a good idea in the summer months is because this is when a lot of new construction happens, and new construction often damages rivers and streams. For example, in my local community, they were building a new bridge and had inappropriate protections for water runoff from the concrete on the site.  A friend of mine who was educated in stormwater taught me about what was going on and showed me the site, and was actively involved in educating our township about what they needed to do differently. Sometimes, you can learn and become the eyes and ears for a whole waterway–an activity well worth pursuing.  A good site to learn more is Stormwater Awareness.

 

10.  Simple Sunbathing Ritual.  In the AODA tradition, we work with three currents of energy: the Solar (sun), the Telluric (earth) and the Lunar (that which is awakened from the elements and the solar and telluric currents). The sun is a purifying and energizing force. As the most simple of rituals on this day, I will go into a natural area and find a place where the sun is shining down (a clearing in a forest or field does this well).  I’ll lay down a blanket in the sun then I will open up a sacred space in my tradition (for those that are new to this, in my tradition this means declaring my intentions, declaring peace in the four directions, purification with the four elements, and calling in the elements, and establishing a protective energetic sphere).  After this, I will simply lay in the sun (I usually cover my face to do this). If the space is particularly private, I may lay in the sun without any clothing; otherwise, I’ll wear a swimming suit. I focus on my breathing during this time, doing color breathing (John Michael Greer describes this technique in several places, including the Druidry Handbook and Druid Magic Handbook).  I often combine this 15 minute practice with my other celebratory rituals for the day, with this coming at the end of a celebration.

 

Just 15 minutes of direct sunlight gives you your vitamin D for the day, especially when the sun is at its height this time of a year.  Even my fair Irish skin doesn’t burn in 15 minutes, once a year, unprotected :P.

Yay for foraging!

Yay for foraging!

 

11. Learn foraging. Wild food and medicine foraging is a wonderful thing to learn around the time of the solstice. The plants are in full bloom, in the weeks following the solstice, in my bioregion, the first of the summer mushrooms and berries are coming in (Mulberry, blackberry, black raspberry, thimbleberry, blueberry, etc).  Its a great time to get outside and see what you can find! I have many posts dedicated to this practice on my blog, and I suggest you start with my two-part posts on how to forage, ethics, safety, and more.

 

12.  Holding a Vigil and Honoring the Sunrise. Another thing I like to do on both of the solstices is holding a vigil and being awake to see the sun rise.  I think on these two days its important to greet the sun, as it is the giver of all life on earth, and on this day, we honor the sun.  For the winter solstice, this practice usually involves an all-night vigil with fire and friends. For the summer solstice, I like to camp, and then wake up prior to sunrise so I can watch the sun coming in. I also make sure I am there to observe the sunset on that day. I have written songs for my flute to honor the sunrise, and I play the sunrise song and sit in meditation and joy as the sun rises over the hills and up through the trees!

 

13.  Make some solstice jam.  One of the things I do every year on the solstice is to make some jam.  The three plants I can harvest that are always ready this time of year are serviceberry (wild foraged), strawberry (grown or purchased from farmers) and rhubarb.  All of the jams I make these days are using Pomona’s pectin, a low-sugar or sugar-free pectin that allows you to can with small amounts of sugar, maple syrup, stevia, or honey. You can get at Whole Foods or other health stores or order online–totally worth it. Usually I use honey from my hives.  Here are the jams I can make that are in season at the Summer Solstice (yours may be a bit different!):

  • A straight serviceberry jam (using a bit of honey)
  • A strawberry jam of some kind; I’ve done strawberry vanilla, strawberry mint, and strawberry ginger (here’s a recipe for strawberry ginger)
  • A rhubarb jam of some kind (here’s a recipe for straight rhubarb; I modify this to add orange juice instead of lemon juice and add orange peels and its amazing! Here’s one for cherry-rhubarb, which I replace with strawberries)
  • An herb jelly (recipe here).

What is so wonderful about canning jam on the summer solstice is that it makes amazing gifts, especially at the Winter Solstice. People LOVE getting a jam that contains the energy of the sun–that’s essentially what you do when you can on this day!  Bottle up the sun’s energy and save it for the dark months.

 

Thank you for reading, and I wish everyone an amazing Summer Solstice!

Rays of the Sun

Rays of the Sun