Solstice

The solstice arrives as both a stillness and a turning, a moment when the great wheel pauses in its spinning, breath caught between the inhale and the exhale of the universe. It marks the edge of a season, the edge of light or the edge of dark, and it speaks to the profound symmetry that governs both the cosmos and the human heart.

In the solstice, we are invited to witness not only the tilt of the Earth but the tilt within ourselves, the ways we lean into brightness or retreat into shadow. It is the threshold where opposites touch, where the furthest reach of the sun’s journey becomes the moment of its return. This pivot, this turning, is an invitation to reflection: to see not only the patterns of the heavens but the patterns we hold within, the light we chase and the darkness we cradle.

The solstice reminds us of the cyclical nature of our lives, how every fullness carries the seed of its own diminishment, and every emptiness holds within it the promise of renewal. It is a cosmic mirror, asking us to step closer, to see our intimate lives reflected in its grand arcs of change. It asks us to name the places where we have lingered too long, to honor the darkness we have walked through, and to trust the inevitability of light’s return.

And yet, the solstice is not only about cosmic grandeur; it is a deeply personal crossing. It speaks of thresholds we carry within, the moments when we must let go of an old season, an old self, and step into the unknown with faith. It is the quiet hinge on which transformation turns, not in the shouting of resolutions but in the whisper of a choice, a gesture, a willingness to begin again.

To live in the rhythm of the solstice is to know that pause and movement are inseparable, that the stillness is not the absence of life but the preparation for its next unfolding. It is to recognise the gift of time held still, the space to listen, to breathe, to trust the quiet momentum of change. The solstice, then, is not only a marker of time but a way of being, an invitation to align with the great turning, to become intimate with the thresholds we inhabit, and to walk through them with the courage of those who know that every ending is also a beginning.