A sticky solstice

On major transitions and anchoring in self

Jun 22, 2025

I am sitting in our third place in two years. On the anniversary of our arrival to a new area, we fully moved into our new home, and I am so beyond tired.

For the first time in a long time, I feel as if I can settle in. Like a feral kitten that is slowly learning to trust again, I lean into the deep inner yearning for home to no longer spin around me in the form of passive aggressive landlords and righteous people who do as they please in the name of a cause they do not understand. This season has been rough.

Fear keeps trying to creep in and I continue to close the windows. I shant ignore it and I shant let it in to destroy the light I have cultivated within. After all, the light feels dim and near burning out forever.

I take solace in my music, my lovely new garden, and the magical birds which surround me each day and remind me I am alive. I am still here.

Worry tries to creep in and I seal the doors and crevices of my mind in which she hides, trying to whisper stories into my ear. Worry is not welcome here.

This year is one of exhaustion, of laying my sword down and saying no more, I need to rest. I need an infinite pause. Summer generally is one of enjoying the long days out with friends, yet this one feels different. This one I crave being in, creating home, and tending to myself and those I love.

There is no doubt that the world is heavy, and on this solstice, I just want the people I love to know I love them and have them love me in return.

We must continue to remember we are alive and our hearts are still beating.

Written under a Taurus moon and a Cancer sun, feeling indeterminate and unclear.