Zenith

Summer solstice 2013 is great. I am liking it, in spite of being overwhelmed by all this light. That's not unusual. Summer solstice is kind of big for me. I would never have noticed the pattern, but my sister did. She asked Why is June such a big thing for you? What a great question! I had no idea it was a big deal.

I looked back through the blog. It's uncanny that every year, June is momentous for one reason or another. I blame the planets in most of my posts, but really can I blame them EVERY solstice, year after year? That doesn't seem fair.

Another pattern my sister pointed out: I write a post about my father at summer solstice every year. Believe me I did not do it consciously. Weird! He comes into my mind at summer solstice. Apparently the ancestors wish to be remembered in June. Every June. That is crazy.

I like to write about the Holocaust every June, too. That is crazier still. The Voice in the Shower said recently that at solstice, dark energy comes briefly into the visible range. The Holocaust is a dark storm indeed, still unwinding. At solstice its terrible energy becomes wholly visible to me. It's interesting to think about.

I contemplated getting the Shalom tattoo for years before actually going through with it. Of course that happened in June. The next day I walked through the Holocaust Museum. June. What is up with June?

Jake died on June 30, 2009.

For heaven's sake! I could go on but I'm sure you get the picture. I'm going to be thinking about the significance of summer solstice for awhile, needless to say. I'm very grateful to be aware of the pattern.

Another gift of this solstice is that I have miraculously regained my joy in growing older. For a long time I've been the spokeswoman for growing old.  I have railed against ageism right and left. Here's a post I published on the other blog last year.

When I turned sixty I was taken aback. It came to me that at sixty we know for a fact we will die, we will. It's hard to believe when younger. Death feels like a bullet we can dodge if we're lucky. But we don't dodge it forever no matter what we do or who we are. You feel that at sixty. At least I did.

I realized that old people are reviled because they are visual reminders of our mortality. No wonder we're ageist! Good lord.

However for some reason, probably linked to the planets, my ancestors and maybe even the Holocaust, all of a sudden I'm glad to be growing old again. It's very exciting!

I got my old age mojo back. Thanks, Brother Sun!

It's an auspicious sign when I see the colors blue and orange next to each other. It's an auspicious summer solstice for sure. That's the U.S. Botanical Garden Conservatory in the background.