Summer Solstice – A Turning Point of Light
As we move through the 20th and 21st of June, we cross a threshold, one of the two hinges of the year. Here in the northern hemisphere, this is the time of the Summer Solstice—when the sun appears to stand still.
Our ancestors marked this moment for millennia. To them, these turning points in the year weren’t symbolic; they were vital. Life depended on knowing when the light would wane or return. They built stone circles—great markers of time like Stonehenge—to track the sun’s movement, to anticipate change, and prepare for it. This was knowledge woven into survival.
At the solstice, the sun reaches its most northerly point in the sky. And then, for a brief time, it seems to pause. A quiet suspension. A moment’s breath, before the long turning back begins.
In the southern hemisphere, it’s the winter solstice—a far more precarious place in the wheel. If the sun did not return, there would be endless night. Crops would fail. Cold would take hold. It’s no wonder ancient peoples gathered in ceremony, kindled fire, and turned their hearts and hopes toward the light.
We might think of these traditions as pagan or primitive, but in truth, they were both wise and practical, early, deeply embodied forms of calendar and prayer. An acknowledgement of our utter dependence on light.
Without sunlight, nothing grows. The very rhythms of the Earth—and our own internal rhythms—shift with the seasons. Yet in modern life, we barely notice. The lights switch on with a flick. Heating hums quietly in the background. We soften the edges of seasonal change with technology, and sometimes lose touch with the felt experience of these great tides.
But the Solstice offers us a chance to pause too.
To notice where we are in the cycle.
To honour the warmth, the energy, the growth that light brings.
To tend not only the outer sun, but the inner fire too.
Light is more than brightness. It’s something we speak of intuitively:
A lightbulb moment. A flash of insight. The light dawned. Shedding light on something.
It’s our shorthand for insight, clarity, presence, truth. Light represents consciousness.
And so, celebrating the Solstice is not just about sunshine and bonfires. It’s about aligning ourselves with that pulse of awareness, and with the elemental reality that light sustains life.
In ancient times, fire was the ritual mirror of the sun. Flames flickering in the dusk were a way of remembering what we depend upon. And even now, something in us stirs when we sit beside fire or greet the sunrise. We remember, in some ancient, cellular way, that life is fragile—and that light, in all its forms, is sacred.
This Solstice, whether you find yourself in stillness, ceremony, or simply aware of the length of the day, let it be a moment of alignment. A time to mark what is turning, what is changing, and what you are ready to welcome or release.
The sun may seem to stand still—
But we are always in motion.
And the light, whether outer or inner, is always worth honouring.
Solstice Reflection
Take a few quiet minutes, ideally outside or near a window.
Gently close your eyes and feel the warmth or presence of light around you.
Let your breath be steady and easy.
Bring to mind what is flourishing in your life—what is growing, ripening, or radiant.
Notice also what might be asking to fall away, to complete its cycle, or to rest.
When you’re ready, ask yourself:
What do I want to honour in this moment of stillness?
What light in me is ready to be seen, tended, or shared?
You might light a candle, write a few words, or simply hold that awareness close as you move through the day.
Go gently, take good care of yourself.
With love,
Clair x
PS if you're feeling inspired, come along and listen to the threshold with me and Ellie Hunter in our Summer Solstice Yoga and Sound Workshop this Saturday afternoon, 2 - 5 pm, at The Howard Venue. There are 2 spaces left, contact me for details and/or book here: https://clairyates.com/book-online