Summer Solstice 2025: Circles of Motion

Summer Solstice occurs on Friday, June 20th, 2025 at 7:41 pm Pacific Time. It is the peak of light in the year—the longest day and the shortest night. Even if it’s not always the peak of greening and growing.

Here in the Pacific Northwest, we’ve been nonstop blooming since early February—snowdrops, heather, the many bulbs mom planted, the calendula that overwintered, marsh marigold, bleeding heart, the rhododendrons, the overwintered chamomile, western and eastern Solomon’s seal, lilacs, apple and pear trees, salal, salmonberry, and thimbleberry bushes, oxeye daisies, wallflower, chives, Astrantia, roses, Pacific Ninebark, foxglove, oriental poppy, and pond lilies! (And I know I missed some others…)

This year, I’m more than ever aware of the circle of summer coming around again…all this blooming, over a few months leading us right into the Summer Solstice again. I love that I can still rely on the earth to grow again, to flower again, to create food, and beauty yet again! Like last year and the year before, and many before that.

But it’s happening early this year. And that worries me. Climate change is disrupting the seasonal circles.

As I write this, we have 2 inches less rain that we should have at this time of the year. It’s been a very dry spring. I have had to start watering the perennials a whole month earlier than last year. And my big water tank (270 gallons) is almost empty already…

Amidst all the flowers and greening, I am afraid and deeply sad about the disruption and damage we are causing the earth. The breaking up of the natural order, the natural circles of life.

This excerpt from Muscogee Joy Harjo’s Eagle Poem invites us into a way to be with this reality:

To pray you open your whole self
To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon
To one whole voice that is you.
And know there is more
That you can’t see, can’t hear;
Can’t know except in moments
Steadily growing, and in languages
That aren’t always sound but other
Circles of motion.

The seasons are circles of motion of the earth. The earth shows herself to me in flowers and greening this time of year, but there are so many circles and so much motion happening underground and invisibly all around.

How can I open my whole self in prayer so that I can participate more fully in these circles of motion? Certainly, by tending the earth, by loving and caring for the earth, by listening to and praising the earth, sun, sky, and moon…

I pray for sun and rain and care and rest, that the earth receives these in the right amounts so that she can bloom and thrive.

I pray and give thanks as I create food and medicine from the plants the earth offers freely. This is one of the ways I can commune–by receiving these gifts and allowing them to heal me and my family.

I wonder if the earth prays? Maybe as I do, tangibly—in the winter-spring in rain, in the spring-summer in greening and flowers, in the summer in sun, and in the fall in apples and pears and Fall harvest?

And as I pray or the earth prays, do we know ourselves as one voice? Does she know me as earth standing on two feet? Do I recognize her many forms and shapes as me? And tend her as I tend myself—feeding, watering, brushing, cleaning, loving?

I find grace in knowing that the earth is always here, carrying us through the seasons, more than we know or can see, in circles of motion. For now.

Winter Solstice 2024–Breathing Room

Dave and I have an Advent ritual of reading a beautiful little book, All Creation Waits by Gayle Boss. Every day, it offers a story about a different animal and how this animal uses their innate knowing to adapt to the cold and dark of wintertime.

Even though we read it last year for Advent, too, the instinctual wisdom of each animal lands so deeply in me each time.

This winter, one of the messages I am working with is from Musk Rat.

Musk Rat’s physiology makes it possible for them to be a frigid-water swimmer all winter! Even when all is covered in snow and ice, Musk Rat can find plants to eat by diving deep down to the bottom of a body of water.

But even well-prepared by their amazing coat, Musk Rat gets cold after a while. So Musk Rat builds what’s called a “push up,” a pile of sticks that poke up from the water through the ice, so they can climb out of the water into this sheltered breathing room. Here Musk Rat can rest, regain their strength.

  • I sit in the nook and look out at the gardens. My favorite time is to sit and breathe while dusk is falling.
  • I light a special solstice candle and pause.
  • I sit by the woodstove and watch the flames.
  • I step outside and breathe in the crisp, cold air, looking around at the living earth, pausing from work.
  • I lie down and rest on the ground (inside since it’s so wet out!).
  • I sit or stand quietly outside and open my awareness.
  • I soak in the hot tub at dusk and sing songs to welcome the dark.

Especially since I spend so much time in front of a computer these days, I need to balance this with moments in the breathing room. And I love the idea that I am aligning with my innate inner winter wisdom by doing this.

This breathing room gives me a moment to align my bodysoul with the rhythms of the living earth.

The rhythm of slow.

The rhythm of cold.

The rhythm of rain and

long,

gray,

dark hours.

And if you’d like to step out into the great breathing room of the living earth, join me on December 21st for an outdoor Winter Solstice Celebration! Read more.

A new solstice song for you from my dear friend and Full Voice Trainer, Barbara McAfee:

Summer Solstice 2024–The Garden

If you’re local to Port Townsend, WA, please join the Summer Solstice Celebration at Quimper Unitarian Universalist Fellowship!

This time of year, the garden is coming into fullness. In summer, we tend to focus on all the flowers that are blossoming—and it’s amazing how flowers are coming into their own right now!

The roses began opening last week—the wild Nootka, the Red Rose I don’t know the name of, as well as the mature Floribunda bush mom planted years ago. And the Foxglove spires reach for the sky, their buds bursting into flowers as blooming energy travels up their stalks. The bright orange-red and the pink Poppies are smiling and the dusky white Astrantia is face-open to the sun. The Rhododendrons and the Korean Lilac are almost done, as well as some bolting, flowering Kale, Arugula, and Collards that I am still harvesting from overwintering in the veggie garden.

And so much more is still to come into flower as the weather continues to warm and the light is long!

It’s the natural unfolding of the plants’ inner instructions, for sure, but we can also look a little more widely at all the factors that help a garden to grow:

  • The space we clear for the plants,
  • The nutrients we add to the soil, be that mulch, compost, or specific amendments,
  • The work we do to clear the soil of impediments—removing rocks, slugs, rabbits, voles (all in my gardens), etc.,
  • The supplying of water and counting on enough sun and warmth,
  • The good wishes, prayers, and songs to feed their spirits.

Just like the blossoming of the plants, our blossoming is also supported by much-needed toil and loving attention. The conditions we create allow our inner and outer gardens to flourish and bloom.

Winter Solstice 2023–Paradox

In the US, we usually think of this as the beginning of winter, but in the Celtic tradition, it’s midwinter, the depth of darkness. The winter season begins after Halloween (Samhain) and ends at Imbolc, February 1st, the very beginning of Spring. This way of circling through the seasons aligns well with the Pacific Northwest climate we live in now.

Regardless of when winter begins, we can learn its rhythms and invitations by noticing what the living earth and her creatures are doing and practicing this in our own lives:

  • Go dormant, hibernate, lie fallow.
  • Root, return to ground, compost.
  • Go within, turn inward, introspect.
  • Listen deeply and listen some more.
  • Welcome darkness and night.
  • Slow down, stop, rest.

It’s hard to do this in our go-go culture. And it’s harder yet during December when we have created a light-filled holiday time. It feels like time speeds up between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Parties, Christmas lights, celebrations to drive the dark away… just when the living earth is inviting us to go into a slower, darker, more inward time. It can feel quite paradoxical.

Like the collage at the top of this blog, which spirals from Fall to Winter (bottom right, earthwise and ending in the middle), I find the quiet, dark spot in the center of any moment. I take that moment to land, to feel held, to quiet and rest. Even though the 10,000 things are clamoring for my attention (and often succeed in getting it), I practice returning to the darkness, the stopping, the slowness.

I am also practicing the following mantra I learned from Miranda MacPherson. I start by just sensing my body, returning to the moment in this way. Then I slowly recite it inwardly with my breath. This has been a beautiful, restful practice for me. I do it at least once a day and sometimes more, repeating it as many times as I can before moving to the next thing on my plate.

Be nothing.

Do nothing.

Get nothing.

Become nothing.

Seek for nothing.

Relinquish nothing.

Be as you are.

Rest in God. (Sometimes I say, “Rest in the dark.”)

This is the breath practice I am finding nourishing:

  • Inhale: Be nothing.
  • Exhale: Do nothing. Get nothing.
  • Inhale: Become nothing.
  • Exhale: Seek for nothing. Relinquish nothing.
  • Inhale: Be as you are.
  • Exhale: Rest in God (the dark).

Wild Church Port Townsend, December 23rd, 10-11:30 am
At Fort Townsend under the big Doug Fir. Bring a chair and dress for the weather!

For those who live too far away to join in person:

Chant & Song for Community, Healing & Hope will start up again on zoom in January on the 1st and 3rd Thursdays from 7:00 – 8:00 pm PT.

Read more on my Calendar.

Summer Solstice 2023–Fullness & Stillness

Breathing in, I take in the fullness.
Breathing out, I rest in the stillness.

Breathe this gatha (mindfulness verse) with me.

Breathing in, I take in the fullness.
Breathing out, I rest in the stillness.

This is a Summer Solstice invitation–to take in the fullness of summer and to rest in the stillness within.

Summer Solstice, a time when the sun seems to stand still in the sky, occurs at 7:57 am PT on Wednesday, June 21st, 2023.

Breathing in, I take in the fullness.

The fullness is all around us.

Flowers blossoming–in our gardens right now: floribunda roses, foxglove, oxeye daisy, euphorbia, rhododendron, native and cultivated bleeding heart, chives, sage, lady’s mantle, California poppies, orange Oriental poppies, valerian, geranium, fringe cups, toad flax, purple bells, peonies…

Leaves in full verdancy–lady, bracken and sword ferns, hazelnut, birch, witch hazel, asian pear, cherry, apple, mountain ash, vine and big-leaf maples, nettle, cleavers, herb robert, violets, kale, cilantro, lettuce…

And so many more that I did not name… Not to mention the birds!

As Gunilla Morris says in A Mystic Garden, you can almost hear the earth humming with growth.

Breathing out, I rest in the stillness.

And the stillness?

It’s as if all this verdant and vivid growth is held in the stillness–in the ground of the living earth, in the rays of the sun, in the vast vault of sky.

Without this holding, nothing could grow–without the earth the roots root in, without the light of the sun that creates life, without the air to breathe…

Breathing in, I take in the fullness.
Breathing out, I rest in the stillness.

Isn’t this so like our lives?

I can get so caught up in the fullness–in answering its call to tend, to enjoy, to jump in–that I forget about the stillness holding me.

Sometimes I can get a visceral sense of the holding by just lying down on the floor to do some somatics or by stepping outside into the living earth or by just sitting with tea. I used to take 5 minute “Do Nothing Breaks,” too.

This summer, let’s savor the fullness–revel in it (not just work!)–and also take time to rest in the stillness. We need both to be whole.

Breathing in, I take in the fullness.
Breathing out, I rest in the stillness.

Which part of this gatha do you need
to be reminded of most?

How will you practice that?