MELODY VAUGHAN
Summer solstice – contradictions in these brightest days
I feel like summer gets a lot of attention for being dynamic and full of energy – we are expected to be sociable, doing exciting things, projecting ourselves outwards. Sometimes this expectation to be out and engaging with everything may be at odds with the reality of what we are experiencing either internally or externally. Sometimes the heat and the social contract mean that summer is challenging. Can we hold that as true as well as all the ‘positive’ aspects of the season? All of this brightness can also push the shadow to the edges as we spend less time in shade, less time given to inner dimensions while external ones are prioritised. It feels to me like a time of inherent contradiction and nuance, a time that appears to be one thing but holds so many things that perhaps are unnoticed.
I wonder where these aspects of potential, appreciation and contradiction might be felt in you and your practice at this time? How these things are present in the collective, and how they can be woven into the ecosystems to which we belong.
Where have you noticed ‘summer energy’ alive in you/your practice?
What is the quality of this energy for you? Does this feel ok? Would you like it to be otherwise? Can you allow it to be as it is?
Where does this energy want to be placed? Is it for you? Your practice? Your communities? The collective?
Where might you feel at odds with the expectations of this season, of society? What might this disruption allow for within you and your practice?
Can there be room for some shade at this time? How can you still tend to the parts of you/your practice that thrive in the darker places during the height of summer? How can you give things – like your grief, sadness, reflection, slowness – space even when the light demands otherwise?
What vibrant plants within you/your practice/your communities/the collective would you like to appreciate and gain nourishment from as you head into summer?
What support might you need to do to this? Who could you look to for companionship in this work? Where could you look for connection? How could care be embedded in each interaction?
This summer solstice I am not at home but in the South of France, a place that year-round benefits from vivid sunshine. Somehow because of that the solstice feels less poignant this year for me. At home I would have been tracking the movement of the sun and building my own small rituals around noticing when/where it emerges and disappears. I love to witness this; it reminds me that life is not static, that things are always moving even when it can feel like they are not.
Right now it is very hot here and so my sun rituals involve shading it and avoiding it as much as possible. I wake early to open up the house and then as the heat builds I move around the rooms closing shutters creating a strange darkness during this brightest time. I feel a kind of grief around this. I want to have the doors open, to see the sun, but the intense heat that it brings is unbearable. The choice I have made – to have the darkness and some cool, rather than suffer the heat inside – brings sadness that things can’t be otherwise, that I miss out on the vibrancy of the midsummer light inside. I try to let this be, it is ok.
I’ve started attending a Grief Tending training course. As I’ve written before (on substack and on my blog) I’ve been embracing my relationship to my grief (in all its forms) and finding ways for tending it to become a daily practice. This course is designed to guide people drawn to grief work in finding ways to tend to other people’s grief. Although we are being shown ways to create containers and rituals to do this, my feeling is that I am not necessarily going to be offering grief tending events but I would like to infuse everything I do – my work, my relationships, my involvement in community – with the awareness that our collective and individual grief needs space to be held and supported. Your grief is very welcome in the space we create together when you work with me 1:1, so if you were considering having some creative mentoring but felt that maybe your grief might not be honoured, rest assured the full spectrum of your experience can be present.
If you are interested in exploring the possibilities that exist within you/your creative practice to contribute to new futures rooted in justice and care, get in touch to find out more about the mentoring work I do.
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