Thinking about Summer Solstice: Shame, Pride, Strength, and Power

I was on a long train commute recently, trying to use the time to get some work done. I ended up writing in my Book of Shadows (spiritual journal) about Litha, or Summer Solstice.

Because I find That-Which-Is-Sacred in nature and the seasons, I like it when my spiritual work is in tune with the rhythm of the seasons. The Wheel of the Year is useful for this. The Sabbats -- the Solstices, when either day or night is longest; the Equinoxes, when dark and light are equal; and the cross-quarter days in between -- are convenient times for me to stop and check in with myself with respect to the seasons, and are also a convenient time to check in with the Goddess / the Gods in a more mindful, take-stock kind of way than I do most First Days.

Some of the Sabbats speak to me deeply, and were part of my life before I ever identified as a Pagan. Some of them just make a lot of sense to me emotionally and spiritually. And some make sense mentally, but not on that instinctive level. Summer Solstice, or Litha, is one of these.

Oh, Summer Solstice makes mental sense to me. It's opposite Winter Solstice, which does speak to me on a gut level. As I've lived in different parts of the country, Summer Solstice and Winter Solstice are times when I've really had an especial sense of place about where I've been living: sunrise and sunset on the longest and shortest days of the year are very different in different parts of the US. The longest day is much longer in Seattle than Philadelphia; sunset on Summer Solstice is later in Ann Arbor or at Camp Grayling than in the Mid-Atlantic; the shortest day is shorter in Seattle than in Ann Arbor than in Philadelphia.

Last year in Seattle, we threw a Summer Solstice cookout where it wasn't dark til nearly 10 pm, but it was chilly enough we were all wearing fleece and long pants in the backyard, gathered around the grill.

You get the picture.

But while Summer Solstice makes mental sense and place-sense, it has never spoken to me in my gut the way some of the other Sabbats do.

On the train, I was trying to plan this year's Summer Solstice Celebration, and not getting far. So I started writing instead.

.....

- What do I actually want to do for Summer Solstice?
- What would be faithful to my leading?
- What is my leading?
- What about my MFW notion that came to me in MFW?
- What is my leading with respect to Roses, Too! Tradition?

I have a strong leading and commitment to Feminist Witchcraft.

I have a leading to teach it to other people, especially women.

So what do I have to teach, and what do I have to learn, about Summer Solstice?

The Sabbats that follow this are all about harvest -- at Lammas, we ask, "What have you harvested so far this year? What do you hope to harvest yet?"

At Litha, we've often talked about fruits, pride, and first fruits.

Gay pride, queer pride, Pagan pride; Pagan pride is more associated with Mabon.

The flip side of pride for both of those is perhaps shame.

So how can Litha, with its bright, purifying (burning?) sun, chase away (burn?) shame, transform shame, into pride?

What things have we been ashamed of that are actually sources of strength, power-from-within, and pride?

• femaleness; female gender; being women
• our bodies
  
• femininity -- characteristics stereotypical of female gender
• being femme or being perceived as femme in a queer culture where that may be suspect or not as honored as being androgynous or soft-butch or gender-bending
• feminism
• being Pagan; being too, or too obviously, Pagan; being not Pagan enough
• being spiritual/religious
• doing "ritual"
• doing ritual that is too plain, too down-to-earth
• health, body, physical issues
  
• cognitive and energy deficits
• education -- high school and seminary especially

So: how to take this stuff about shame, that provokes or produces shame, and transform it into pride?

(One key is feminist analysis of shame based on oppression and powerlessness...)

Transforming shame and powerlessness into pride, strength, and power-from-within.

Burning things? Eating rainbow fruit salad? [ <--- Rainbow fruit salad has appeared at past Roses, Too! Litha potlucks where the theme was "Take pride in your fruits (all puns intended)"]

Writing them down, putting them into a cauldron [the Cauldron of Cerridwen], stirring them around, pulling them back out, reading them - ? ie, "I have been ashamed of/when ---," then, "X is a source of pride / strength / power-from-within" - ?

(What do we do with them afterwards?)

What about things like violent or destructive behavior, illness / injury / disease, addiction, etc?

Transform the statement.

"Recovery is a source of pride, strength, and power-from-within."

"The ability and willingness to take responsibility for my actions is a source of strength and power-from-within."

"My body is a source of pride, strength, and power-from-within."

"My body's ability to heal is a source of pride, strength, and power-from-within."

"Not taking crap from inferior doctors is a source of pride, strength, and power-from-within."

Etc, and more.

I was done writing then, but all this has been bubbling away in the stewpot in the back of my brain. And I'm curious to see how things will cook up for Litha.

And although I might not have consciously realized it until now, that little bit of work has borne some fruit already: I bought jeans (on sale for cheap!) yesterday that show off my belly fat.

Not something I ever would have done before.

Seasonal Solstice Salad

This is one of those recipes that is so time-of-year specific that it seems perfectly appropriate that it was our dinner on the summer solstice. Stasa and I went to the farmers' market this morning and found that the first new potatoes of the year were in. We also got a bunch of young beets there, and later at the food co-op I found that they still had local asparagus, although the asparagus season is just about over. I think I probably won't be able to cook new potatoes and asparagus together again until next summer solstice.

Solstice Salad

1 pint young beets (minus greens)
1 pint new potatoes
about 1 pound asparagus
four ounces feta, crumbled
olive oil
kosher salt
pepper

Grease a baking pan with olive oil and roast the beets and potatoes at 350 until done, shaking every ten minutes or so. Remove vegetables one at a time, as they finish cooking. Set aside to cool; once cool, cut into bite-sized pieces if not already small enough.

Wash asparagus, trim ends, and cut in 2 inch lengths. Heat olive oil in a large cast iron skillet until hot (the French say, "let the pan surprise the vegetables.") Add asparagus and about 1/2 tsp kosher salt, saute until cooked through but still firm-textured.

Put cooked vegetables in a bowl and add pepper to taste. Once mostly cooled, add crumbled feta.

The sweetness of the beets, the different sweetnesses of the new potatoes and the asparagus, and the salt of the feta somehow complement each other beautifully, even though this isn't a combination I would have thought of without seeing all the vegetables at the market.

We have been eating a lot of asparagus this spring, usually sauteed in olive oil as it is cooked here. I'm sad that the season is over! I have been in Germany twice in my life, both times during early spring. As a result, one of the few German words I know is Spargel. I mentioned this to a German friend, and she said, "Well, it's an important word!" I couldn't agree more.

Summer Solstice!

Yesterday was the Summer Solstice in the northern hemisphere: the day with the most hours of light and the fewest hours of darkness in Earth's 24-hour cycle.

Summer Solstice, or Litha, is one of the eight solar holidays often observed by Pagans of different traditions. Summer Solstice itself is an occurrence, something that happens in nature. In many traditions, what makes something a holiday is two things: its occurrence in nature, and what that means to us. Here's some neat info about the science involved, about the actual occurrence of the Summer Solstice. A Google search for Summer Solstice or Litha can tell you a fair amount about what different traditions have published on the internet about what it means to them.

As someone striving to live her life more in harmony with nature, as someone to whom nature itself is sacred, developing the habit of being more, and more deliberately, aware of what's happening in the natural world around me has been both neat and helpful. Knowing when the Solstices, Equinoxes, and cross-quarter days are helps to orient me to the year, the seasons, and the dark and light; it's kind of like a seasonal compass I always have with me. When it feels like winter's never going to end, or like it's going to be hot much longer than I can tolerate, or I'm wondering why the flowers aren't here yet or the leaves haven't turned yet, knowing where I am in the Wheel of the Year helps me keep perspective.

Some of the places on the Wheel of the Year are pretty intuitive to me -- especially Beltane, Samhain, and Yule. Those are ones where what's happening in the world around me and in my spiritual life are easily and obviously in tune. Litha has always been less intuitive for me. In some ways, that's good: I don't have an investment in doing certain kinds of spiritual work at Midsummer; I can take, perhaps, a more frank look at what's happening in nature and how that is or isn't echoed in my own spiritual life. In some ways, it's harder, because I don't have an established pattern that usually meets my needs.

So, what is happening in nature around me right now?

This is a confused summer here in southeastern Michigan. Our spring and summer have been slow, and cold, for the most part. And rainy: the mold count is high, and I'm having the unusual occurrence of spring allergies and a spring asthma flare-up. After a colder than usual season, we had unexpected heat -- temps in the 90s F -- and when that passed, drops down to the 40s and 50s at night, and 60s and 70s during the day.

I'm used to Lithas that are hot and sticky, and occasionally merely warm. So in a lot of ways, it doesn't quite feel like Solstice yet to me.

But things are blooming, and early veggies are appearing at the Farmers' Market. This is probably the last week for asparagus. There's still rhubarb. Looking out into our yard, what I see in bloom are the star gazer lilies, the astilbe, and the catalpa tree.

I'm reminded a lot of last year's Solstice. I spent it, of all odd things, doing peace work on a military base several hours north of here. It was chilly -- I was in fleece and long pants the whole four days I was there -- but the days were long. I remember walking between buildings at 10:30 at night, and being amazed at the shade of indigo that was the sky.

Right now, in Ann Arbor, the sun rises at 5:58 am, and sets at 9:15 pm. (It really is different "back home": in Philadelphia, the sun rises at 5:32 am, and the sun sets at 8:33 pm.) (Hmmm. In Seattle, where we're moving in August, it's 5:11 am and 9:11 pm. Wow!)

I am getting ready for FGC Summer Gathering, which I'm looking forward to with joy and with some stress. I'm having an allergy and asthma flare-up, which is making it hard for me to feel at peace with my body and with the weather. (If it weren't so rainy, it wouldn't be so moldy, and my lungs would be working better!) I am wishing for more of what I think of as Summer Solstice weather for this area: sunny and warm, not too hot, with occasional Midwestern-typical thunderstorms in the afternoons.

What's happening in the natural world around you just now?

What's happening in your spiritual life?

What does Summer Solstice mean to you?

Summer Solstice at Camp Grayling

Yesterday was Litha, Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year.

(How can any day be longer than any other? They all have 24 hours, right? Summer Solstice is the day with the most hours of sunlight in the northern hemisphere, because of the tilt of the Earth on its axis.)

Here at Camp Grayling, it was a beautiful, breezy, sun-drenched day. I could only get on the internet by sitting out front of my building (wireless access has its limitations), and I delighted in spending lots of time with the sun, the moon, the oak and maple trees near the door, and the wind dancing through them. Just down the hill is Lake Margrethe, sparkling in the sun.

And it was, in fact, a day with loooong sunshine: nearly 15 1/2 hours of light. According to the US Naval Observatory, the data for Grayling, MI for yesterday are:

Begin civil twilight       5:16 a.m.                
Sunrise                    5:53 a.m.                
Sun transit                1:41 p.m.                
Sunset                     9:28 p.m.                
End civil twilight        10:05 p.m.  

I walked a case over to admin at 10:30 pm last night, and the sky was still not completely dark. It was a lovely, luminous blue, with the moon, nearly half-full, sailing high.