Long Litha

High Summer Wedding

I begin this entry on the morning of Thursday June 8, 2023. today the Sun will transit at 77 degrees above the horizon. It will transit at this height and not get any higher through the Solstice on the 21^st and begin to transit progressively closer to the horizon beginning July 5^th. These are the longest and brightest days of the year with the shortest noon shadows. High Summer at our latitude.

My intention was to publish this missive on the day of the Summer Solstice. But upon reading it I realized that it suggests a meditation that one might fruitfully employ for the entire Solstice Season. So I am offering it today, just one day after my last post and beg my reader’s pardon for thought bombing them after nearly six weeks of silence. Things gotta happen when they gotta happen. I think this has to happen now.

Here in the Northern Hemisphere, June has been traditionally thought a good time for Weddings. Those of us who observe the 8 sabots that mark out the wheel of the year, know that Beltane (the cross quarter between the Vernal Equinox and the Summer Solstice) is the sexy sabot, the horny adolescence of the year. The summer Solstice is the time to put a ring on it.

I try not to begin any new projects after the summer solstice. This reflects the recognition that after that date, the year begins to close in on itself – the flower opens to invite the spore, then she forms the pod around it, as above, so below. The Summer Solstice is a time to commit all that has ridden in on the rising tide of energy that began last December to memory and action, to realize all that has been, up till now, only potential.

Some imagery from the Tarot suggests itself here.

The third decan of Gemini, represented by the 10 of Swords, ends at the Summer Solstice. Then comes the first decan of Cancer represented by the Two of Cups. Swords represent the mind and thought. The ten of Swords appears quite grim, the fallen man pinned to the ground by ten swords. What we see here is the end of thought, the unrealized potential of mere ideas that come to nothing unless they are captured in some tangible form. In the two of cups we see commitment. The figures toast to one another and to what they might become together. The two serpents climb the staff as separate individuals but only fly once they become one, a single beautiful head carried aloft by two wings. The Ten of Swords as the third decan of Gemini, represents the mutability of Air (thought). The Two of Cups as the first decan of Cancer, represents the dawn of cardinal Water (feeling). The air ascends to its greatest height, condenses into water and begins its downward journey. After the Sword sunders everything, the Cup collects and unites. Dismember and remember. Solve et coagula.

Of course a wedding is not the end, there might be a fall planting, there will be first homes and second children, but all of this will depend on what the two have brought with them and mixed into that loving cup. Ideally both parties will have become full adults by their wedding day, will have figured themselves out and “sown their wild oats”. Those of us who have married, whether we have remained long together or gone our separate ways, know that the ideal is usually far from reality. But this knowledge tends to reinforce the wisdom of the ideal.

In any case, even in the long summer days, we are wise to remember and anticipate the long winter nights to come. When the Earth feels the Sun’s warmth on her green and perfumed belly, she instinctively draws that warmth into her body, in seeds and ripening fruit and soil that will hold his heat well into the lean days. The Sun, for his part, is wise to not resist her nuptial gravity. At the height of his vigor his power shall fail as night follows day. If not for the evidence of harvest and hibernating seeds, what should remain of the year he makes by his waxing and waning. No reluctant groom is he and we are the richer for his firm resolve to go and make a home in our Mother’s holy body.

So in these long days remember that summer is but a season and there is no where to go but downward and inward from here. Take a moment to reflect on what you would like this year to bequeath to the future. This season asks for a promise at the very moment that we might think we have all the time in the world. We DO of course have all the time in the world, but that time is always less we suppose.