Celebrating the Summer Solstice
Morning rituals with my new puppy, finding a fawn, and bringing my visions to life
I woke up to the sound of Tuna, my new puppy, gently whining. I rubbed my eyes and stretched out my limbs in bed. I didn’t need to roll over and check the time — she has consistently been sleeping through the night (win!) and wakes up every day at 5 AM on the dot. I proudly identify as a morning person, but even for me, these early mornings day after day have been tough.
As a long-time morning person, I am a lover of any kind of ritual. For the last two years, I’ve done the same thing nearly every morning — wake up, splash cold water on my face and give myself a facial massage, boil water for my tea while I stretch, grab my tea and then sit down for a meditation. This is usually followed by reading and/or writing for at least a half hour every morning. Here’s the thing — dogs don’t give a shit about our morning rituals. Tuna has no interest in watching me sit in silence and meditate. She wants my full focus and attention. These are the little things you don’t realize will change when you bring a new being into your life — be it a puppy or a child.
So, instead of trying to force her to submit to my will and do mornings my way, I’ve decided to let her guide me through a new kind of morning ritual. We wake up right before the sun and we go outside immediately. Yesterday morning, I took her out into the front yard, and gasped at how beautiful the sky looked. The sun had painted shades of pink and purple as across the sky in the East. She did her business and then laid down in the grass, perfectly content to chew on a large stick she’d found. I started doing my yoga poses right there in the front yard — folding over my legs and placing my hands in the grass. As I held my body there — feet and hands in the morning-dew-damp grass with my puppy lying next to me — I realized how long I’d spent daydreaming of this exact moment. In rush and noise of city life, I discovered an ever increasing desire for grass. I would find myself daydreaming about planting my feet in the grass first thing in the morning. When I created a vision board for 2024, at least half of the pictures were just pictures of grass. As I held that pose, feet and hands in the grass, it struck me that it was never so much about the grass as it was about what the grass meant.
The grass was a symbol of a slower life. A quieter, calmer, more grounded life.
And here I was, exactly where I’d hoped to be.
When we wandered back into the house, I put a kettle on and gave Tuna some toys to play with. The best kind of morning is when she’s willing to entertain herself a bit, so I can go about drinking tea and writing. I heard a high-pitched noise coming from the back window that looks out on our backyard. Thinking it must be a cricket, but wanting to get closer to the source, I went to investigate. The window looks out on this part of our yard that is… hard to landscape. The previous owners created a sort of gravel fire pit situation, which means we can’t mow the area. But, there are lots of weeds that grow in the area. Long story short — we’re city people still figuring out how to care for a lawn and this little patch in our backyard has been a bit untamed. It’s beginning to look like a small, wild meadow.
I looked out the window, and there nestled amongst the wild flowers, weeds, and overgrown grass was a fawn. A tiny little deer, with speckled white spots down her back, sleeping amongst the greenery. She woke up when I approached the window, and looked directly at me. I watched her intently, feeling my heart swelling in my chest. I wanted to pull out my phone to take a picture, but I didn’t want to interrupt the moment. Tuna dashed behind me to grab her toy and the sound startled the tiny fawn. She sprang to life and hurried out of the yard.
I don’t know what it was about this moment, but I was mesmerized. I’m currently reading the final pages of Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd, and she speaks at length about how the Universe, or God(dess) or whatever you choose to call it, provides signs and symbols for us. All we have to do is pay attention. Once we’ve started, all the sudden it feels like everything around us is imbued with a heightened sense of meaning.
That afternoon I did some reading and learn that the fawn can represent new beginnings, wonder and openness. In Greek mythology and lyrical poetry the fawn was a symbol of playfulness, and the “wild, untamed elements of nature and the harmonious relationship between humanity and the natural environment.”
As I’ve settled into our new beginning here in Arkansas, I’ve felt myself softening (and at times resisting) the closeness to the natural environment. The change has been exciting and also challenging. I have found myself at times struggling to find wonder and openness amongst all the change. When I found myself folded over with my hands in the grass at sunrise, I realized that I was living a life I couldn’t have even imagined in January of this year. And I was instantly filled with wonder.
At this time of year, I’d typically be thinking, “Oh my god, this year is flying by.” But not this year. I feel like I’ve lived a few lives already in the last six months — perhaps a sign that I’ve been more present to what’s actually happening around me.
My fawn greeted me the morning after the summer solstice — the longest day of the year, a day when the Sun emanates its maximum strength and influence. Whether you’re into astrology or not, these moments (solstices, eclipses, phases of the moon) are a great time to reflect on the light and darkness in our own lives.
As I’ve reflected this week on the sun shining at its fullest, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about what makes me shine. I’ve spent a lot of my life chasing after the shiny objects that turned and tarnished too quickly. Much like crows, who are drawn to and collect shiny objects, I have been collecting shiny ideas for so many years.
Now, I’m cultivating a better sense of which ideas will keep their shine. Over the last few weeks, I’ve been getting clearer on how to take my ideas and bring them to life. I’ve realized that keeping these ideas pent up inside is a disservice to my creativity and voice. That children’s book I’ve been daydreaming about since 2018? Let’s start writing it. The podcast I’m hoping to record with that fabulous long-distance friend? Press record (Looking at your
) The beaded jewelry I’ve been envisioning in my mind for the last couple month? Bust out the beads, and let’s get started.
I’ve spent all day preparing to host a midsummer party. The cake is baked, the flowers are arranged, and my pup is playing in the yard. With the warm midsummer sun glowing on my face I’m thinking about all the ways I’m letting the light in to illuminate the people, places, and projects that truly energize me. I’m paying special attention to anyone or anything that awakens my muses. As I look forward to the next half of this year, I have a feeling there are wellsprings of delightful possibilities ahead.
Happy Summer Solstice Friends! 🤲
☀️☀️☀️ you don’t have to chase shiny objects. YOU are the shiny object you’ve been looking for!