Summer Solstice blesses those of us dwelling in the Northern hemisphere on June 21, 2022 at 3:14 am MDT. Before most of us rise in the morning, the nourishing waves of Cancer will have rippled into our dreams to shape our lives.
The season of Cancer always calls me to examine how we nurture ourselves and others, but this year the pull is even stronger than in the past.
It’s time to redefine how we care for ourselves and to cultivate self-love practices that defy obsolete expectations and conditioned responses.
It’s time to take a fresh, more kindhearted approach to the ways we show up each day – for ourselves first – and then others.
Maybe it’s truly that simple: taking time. To breathe. To notice. To listen. To love.
This crystalized for me recently when I followed my intuitive hit to turn right instead of left on the road in front of me. Moments later, I missed the turn I would normally take to return home.
Before I could alter my course, I came upon a gathering of elk cows and their newly born calves resting in a grassy pasture.
Soft rains fell as they dozed in and out of the late afternoon. The babies nestled against each other in their safe circle of mamas and older siblings, while the mamas took turns napping and eating.
There isn’t much in this world that softens the heart more than new life and the way it is unconditionally loved by its mother.
That’s the kind of love that we’re being called to demonstrate now. Inside each of us, there dwells a newborn soul.
One who arrived here not despite the risks and trials of life on this planet, but because of them.
One who is worthy of love and protection always.
One who is waiting, with the rest of us, to be healed by love.
Here’s to trusting ourselves when we feel lost. Here’s to showing up, over and over, so that love may guide us home.
With great love and gentle raindrops of peace,