For standing in the fullness before the turn
The Longest Light
- 1 Wake with the sun. Or stay up to meet it. Be present at the earliest light of the longest day. This is the year's full breath before the exhale.
- 2 Go outside. Stand where the sun can reach you. No shade, no shelter. Let yourself be fully seen.
- 3 Name what has come to fullness. What have you grown? What has ripened? Speak it aloud. This is not boasting—it is witnessing.
- 4 Acknowledge the turn. Say: Even at the height, the wheel is turning. I do not grip. I do not grieve. I stand in the light while it lasts.
- 5 Make an offering to the waning. A flower, a splash of water, a breath. Thank the light for what it has given. Release your hold on the peak.
The Longest Light
Litha is the sun's zenith—the longest day, the shortest night. The word "solstice" means "sun standing still," and for a moment it does: poised at the top of the wheel before the slow descent begins.
In folk tradition, this is when the oak king falls and the holly king rises. The light has won, and in winning, begins its surrender. Bonfires were lit to mirror the sun, and herbs gathered at noon were said to hold the most power. St. John's Wort, picked on Midsummer's Day, could ward off storms and spirits.
Litha asks you to hold two truths at once: fullness and impermanence. To celebrate without clinging. To stand in the blaze knowing it will not last—and finding that this makes it brighter, not dimmer.
Correspondences
- Materials
- Sunflowers, gold cloth, honey, oak leaves
- Plants
- St. John's Wort, chamomile, lavender, fern
- Moon
- Full (if it aligns) or any—the sun rules here
- Time
- Sunrise, solar noon, or the full stretch of the longest day
- Direction
- South (sun at peak) or above (zenith)
The sun stands still.
I stand with it.
I have grown. I have ripened.
I name what is full without flinching.
Even now, the wheel is turning.
I do not grip. I do not grieve.
I stand in the longest light
and let it fill me while it lasts.
Your intention: