Solstice 2026
With gratitude to the longest day and all that goes with it
I always wake up early. It doesn’t matter if the day is full or my calendar is a blank canvas.
I love seeing the morning light peeking through the edges of my blackout shades, purchased only because the neighbors across the street have lights on all night that put a JFK airport runway to shame.
This morning, I opened one eye around 4:24am and smiled at the light creeping into the room. The longest day. And it was all mine. Not one ‘to do’ or ‘must do’ on the calendar except to buy more oat milk. I could put it off, and yet I knew that tomorrow morning’s ritual would be about the ‘I told you so’s’ and not filled with the anticipation of my little electric frother spinning and heating what makes my coffee such a treat. So, getting more oat milk is definitely going to be part of my day.
And it’s the longest day.
With that thought, some sadness began to creep into my happiness. It’s the longest day. So what does that mean for tomorrow? It’s going to be a longer night; a shorter day. Soon, my mornings will be dark when I wake up. Moving about in darkness rather than sunlight. I feel a pull at my heart for the shorter days to come, summer’s blooms reaching their peak and the winding down of summer.
But not today. Today is about being in the present moment. Now … and now … and now. We do that, don’t we? Anticipate the future, or mark an event as the end of something or beginning of another thing?
Right now, the present moment is filled with gratitude for my garden getting ready to bloom and for what’s already blooming. The milkweed is tall and flowering. No Monarchs yet, though. I’ll wait until it’s past its bloom and cut the stems down so when the Monarchs do arrive, there’s tender shoots for the caterpillars to eat; the caterpillars that will hatch from underneath the leaves.
I read a post early this morning that said, “Your nervous system doesn’t care how much you get done today. If your soul is starving for sunlight, rest or rhythm, let that be the priority. The solstice reminds us that regulation is sacred, slowness is strategy. Peace is power.”
If you needed to hear that today, then let that fill your calendar.
As it turns out, today is also Father’s Day here in the States. For many, that adds something to your calendars today, no matter what your physical, emotional or spiritual wants might be. It’s about gathering and all that goes with that. Celebrating. Food. Time that is yours and not yours.
And for others, it’s about memories and all they bring to the emotional table.
Can our calendars ever be a blank canvas? Maybe not.
As my morning coffee settles in, I’m thinking about going out to a place called Prosser Pines. It’s about a 45-minute drive and one of the Eastern White Pine forests here on the east coast. It’s roots go back to the French & Indian War and a young officer who chose land over his salary. He came to Long Island, part of the colonies at the time. I’ve written about it before, so I won’t go into its story here. I have a walk coming up next weekend and this might be the only day I have to spend time there after a long absence.
So, am I working today on the longest day? Yes and no. It’s about pleasure and noticing. I may take notes. I’ll definitely take photos, and for an hour or two, I’ll be transported to this magical place that seems to have no rightful place on our mall-filled, road weary island. And yet, it’s my Long Island.
The rest of the day has yet to unfold. I imagine that later today I’ll take my shoes off and stand barefoot in my back yard and let the Earth’s energy rise up through my feet all the way up to the crown of my head and beyond. My heart, my wild heart especially, radiating a golden light, will send love and peace wherever it’s needed most.
Some say it’s a day to write intentions. I’m just going to be open to whatever blessings the Universe chooses to send my way, honoring how I arrived at where I am today, too.
Everything I take into my body today will be blessed and filled with gratitude. I will become the coffee plant, the oats swaying in the wind, the sap that runs from the maple tree, and more. I’ll consider what I want to become before I take it into my body.
Lastly, there’s a release here, especially on Fathers Day (for me), of what no longer is meant for me or serves me. That release makes space for who I am and who I am becoming. As I was writing this, a faraway friend texted, “Happy Father day to the male influence of your parenting.” I’m laughing at the timing!
And tonight, I imagine myself sitting outside, watching the last rays of light settling into the horizon, ever so grateful to have that moment as part of my day.
So, my calendar, it seems, is full! What about yours?
with much love, light and awe,
Linda
So beautiful!! Happy Solstice ✨️✨️
Wishing you a very Happy Belated Solstice!!