#sparkchamber 062226 — Summer Solstice

Yesterday was the summer solstice in the northern hemisphere, making today the first day of astronomical summer. A solstice is a fleeting celestial moment in time when the sun reaches its highest [summer] or lowest [winter] point in the sky at noon. At that moment, the sun appears to stand still before reversing direction. [The word is formed from the Latin solstitium, combining sol — sun — and sistere — to stand still. So, at the solstice, the sun stands still.]

Since time began, cultures around the globe have tracked and celebrated this auspicious moment. More than 5,000 years ago, Stonehenge was built to align perfectly with the sun’s rays at the solstice moments.

Spiritually, the solstice symbolizes “a sacred pause,” and what better way to honor that than with a poem. So, #sparkchamber leans into the light with Gitanjali 57, a poem by Bengali poet, author, playwright, musician, composer, philosopher, social reformer, and painter, Rabindranath Tagore

Gitanjali 57

Rabindranath Tagore

Light, my light, the world-filling light, the eye-kissing light, heart sweetening light! 
  Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the centre of my life; the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love; the sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth. 
  The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light. Lilies and jasmines surge up on the crest of the waves of light. 
   The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my darling, and it scatters gems in profusion. 
   Mirth spreads from leaf to leaf, my darling, and gladness without measure. 
The heaven’s river has drowned its banks and the flood of joy is abroad. 

Happy Solstice to all!

1.] Where do ideas come from?

Summer-induced stupidity. That was the diagnosis... ― Aimee Friedman, Sea Change

2.] What is the itch you are scratching?

Let us dance in the sun, wearing wildflowers in our hair … ― Susan Polis Schutz

3.] Early bird or night owl, tortoise or hare?

Summer afternoon — summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language. ― Henry James

4.] How do you know when you are done?

I don't know how long I kept at it...
I felt reasonably safe, stretched out on the floor, and lay quite still.
It didn't seem to be summer any more ― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar