A contemplation and a tale of Summer Solstice
We’re slow on weekend mornings. The kids try to get us out of bed. We refuse. It starts with our toddler. He has very sophisticated ways to try to get us to get up. Like screaming really loudly in our ears. Or sit on our heads. Or pull on my nipple. Or drop a water bottle on Andrew’s head. Then his sister comes to the rescue. And she has a lot to say. First we all cuddle. It’s so sweet. The whole family squeezed into a pile of infinite love. Andrew and I try to hold on to our sleep. Don’t slip away! Please! Through the giggles and the tickles and the little power struggles, we grasp the dreaminess from inside.
Sometimes one of us gives in and gets up. Sometimes we both resist like pros, and they get up and play together in our room. Our bodies tired from the week. And from staying up waaaaaaayyyy too late. It’s the weekend! Why end the night so early?
Ahhhhhh… Horizontal position is such a treat. Body resting on bed. Mmmmmmmmm. R.E.L.A.X.A.T.I.O.N. It’s heaven. It’s quite loud in this heaven. But let’s not be too picky. Gratitude, yo! We hear them laugh a lot and scream sometimes. Moving between sweetness, harmony, and infinite love, through trying to figure things out, and all the way to angry, loud wild things, sending each other off to bed without supper.
Our tiredness is remarkable.
We need to rest.
That’s life in the land of not enough time. Not enough time to sleep. Not enough quality time with each other. Not enough quality time with the kids – for him it’s the twelve hour work days, for me it’s the non stop work around the house, and all the food prepping, that I don’t get to just BE with them hardly at all. Which is crazy. I know. Not enough time to do yoga and meditate. Not enough time to work on the projects that will help us move in the direction of more quality time, more sleep, more chill, more fulfillment. And then there’s the not enough time to be young, and not enough time for their childhood, and not enough time in this body and on this earth, watching it all slipping away so fast.
We’re at the Hollywood Sunday Farmers Market. We get there super late because we refused to get out of bed, and then breakfast took a decade. And then the circus of getting out of the house; the water bottles and the shoes and this stroller, not that stroller, and the poopy diaper right before we get in the car. And just another quick shot of espresso before we go. By the time we start driving they’re hungry again. “We’ll get a snack when we get there, guys, ok?”
Parking is a total bitch. We drive around and around. I start to stress. I am desperate for heirloom tomatoes. And we have no kale left in the fridge. Crisis mode. We keep driving around. We find a spot. I start to back up into it. Some asshole snatches it in the ugliest maneuver the corner of Vine and Sunset has ever seen. I drive away ANGRY. We wanna get out of the car and fight. Fighting isn’t gonna help. I wanna fight! The children are watching. FIGHT! It’s a waste of energy. Get out and fight, you piece of shit! It’s way too dangerous. This is America. We circle around the block one more time, and when we drive by that spot again, the desire to find a knife and slash this person’s tires is strong. But instead we go into a parking lot and pay for stupid parking.
And no! The moral of the story isn’t that we should have done that from the get go. Usually we find parking, ok?
I feel agitated as fuck.
Are there even gonna be any vegetables left?
We rush to the market. Some vendors start to break down already. Goddammit!
We make it to one of our favorites. They started to break down, but they’re still open. Phew. I’ve been dreaming about these heirloom tomatoes for months. They are finally here.
I’m so excited! It’s a little embarrassing to admit just how excited I am about tomatoes. I fill up a box. I am elated.
I’m pretty excited about the cucumbers too! I take a bunch. I grew up eating a tomato, cucumber salad every day, with a little onion. The flavor of the mediterranean at its best. Some really good olive oil. I don’t need more than that.
We get a lot of zucchini and squash. And Cilantro.
The guy calls me over. He has some amazing Lemon Cucumbers that he put away already. “You want some?” He asks. It’s hard for me to hide my excitement. We had them a couple of weeks ago and they were incredible. He takes me to the back and lets me fill up a bag.
“I already told your husband $40 before.” He says to me. “Ok cool. How much is it now?” I ask. “$40” He answers. “What? But I added all the cucumbers, and the cilantro.” I say. “$40” He repeats. “How is it possible? Just the box of tomatoes is $30.” I say. He smiles. “$25 for you guys.” And winks.
I’m giddy. We really do need to get a wagon. The amount of certified organic, most amazing vegetables we walk away with is fantastic.
I thank him over and over again.
We continue our journey. The sun is still hiding behind the clouds. June gloom in full bloom. People look beautiful. It is Hollywood after all. On a Sunday. It’s the Farmers Market Church. People dress up nicely. We always run into friends. It’s good vibes. We make it to the avocado guy just in time. He gives us a great deal. We find beautiful kale. We get our hands on some herbs. And lettuce. We get strawberries and blackberries for nearly nothing. And a bunch of stone fruit, that after we pay the woman, she throws a lot more into our bags.
As we watch the market break down while still shopping, we marvel at the abundance of the season. The variety. There are so many colors. And they look so beautiful with the diffused light of the sun through the clouds.
We don’t scramble to fill up on our veggie supply. We score!
Getting there so last minute was worth it.
Look, it’s not like your baskets will be filled with bounty every time you go through the stress of not enoughness. Not every time you experience anxiety about not enough resources will end up in abundance. And not everything in life is a blessing. Not every time some asshole snatches a parking spot from right underneath your wheels, will you get better deals because you’re so late. Life doesn’t always work that way. It’s not some magical fairytale that always ends well.
Well, sometimes it is.
There are special, sparkly, magical moments. And sometimes you clearly see how the shit you’ve been through fertilizes the ground for the awesomeness that you walk on now.
Most of the time, though, we need to train the muscles of our eyes to be able to see that abundance and lack go hand in hand.
And let’s be really honest, ok? Sometimes the shit is just shit, and nothing good will grow out of it. If we step in it, we gotta just clean it up, wash our hands, and keep on walking.
But as we take our last little step towards Summer Solstice, I can’t help but being inspired by the light reaching its peak, and the power of the sun, high up in the sky, expanding into its fullness. The season of plenty is about to officially begin. All the fruit is plump with juice, and the veggies are pregnant with nutrients.
I am reminded that all of this abundance is a result of darker days, and that lack is what brought plenty into being. It’s the loss and decay that happen in Fall, and the dark void in the cold of winter, that create the beauty of Spring and the Abundance of Summer.
As the sun takes center stage on the Solstice, and shines its brightness in all its glory, it will also begin to journey south. The nights will slowly grow longer from here till Winter Solstice. And even though the warm season is only beginning, in this celebration of light and bounty, there is a hint of darkness and death. The longest day of the year, the first day of Summer, is that which initiates the return of the dark.
Such is life, yeah? Bounty and beauty woven into bitchiness. Blessings and bummers bound together in one body. You were born this way, baby!
So take some time in the next couple of days that surround the Solstice, to be outside, and let the power of the sun and the bounty of the earth charge you, fill you, and inspire you.
I love crafting a ceremony for the solstice. I love invoking the presence of beauty and bounty. I call on my muse. I harness my creative power. I bless the wild – in me and out in nature. And I allow myself to receive the blessings of nature, the fruit of my labor, the gifts of culture, the abundance in my life. I light a candle. Or twenty. I dance with my children. I make an effort to be barefoot outside. And I eat tomatoes.
A few meaningful moments. That’s all you need. Make your time on the earth and in the sun count.
Abundance is about quality, not quantity.
How do you celebrate Summer Solstice? Please write a comment and share your favorite rituals. I’d love to celebrate with you.
(And if you want to celebrate together in real life, join me this Saturday for ceremony. Message me for details.).
Sending you love charged with sunbeams and bounty.
Happy Summer Solstice!