confronted by the Sun

blooming St. John’s Wort

“How do I even see a sunrise??”

Two years ago, I had received an assignment from a magical teacher: greet the sun.

The assignment was simple: at some point during Solstice season, I was to watch a sunrise.

There may have been a poem or incantation I was supposed to recite while doing so, but that part was easy. The hard part, turns out, was finding the rising sun.

I am not a “morning person.” My preferred waking time is 1-2 hours post-sunrise (I don’t actually know when sunrise is, thus the estimate). I would get a little snarky in my head when people waxed poetically about seeing a sunrise or being up early. The very concept is that confronting to me. No sun for me, thanks. To me, there is nothing more luxurious than remaining in bed while the sun’s rays are streaming through the windows onto my blankets.

I was not excited about this assignment. I was, in fact, so irritated by it that I knew it must be important.

Once I accepted the fact that I was going to do this, I had a few questions.

Firstly — where can I see a sunrise? I wanted to do this in my garden, but I knew that the garden had extraordinary sunset views, and thus was not likely to boast the sunrise. Still, I went. At the wrong time.

Turns out, when you look up “what time is sunrise?” on the internet, the time given is the point at which the sun has risen, not the start of the process. Dang. So I need to get up even earlier.

So I was at my garden a bit too late and, as expected, couldn't see the sunrise beyond the trees. It was lovely to be there (birds, insects, dew + spiderwebs), but I hadn't achieved my goal.

Where else could I go?

Funnily, the one place within walking distance of my home where I can be (hopefully) alone in nature is a very old cemetery. Doing magic rituals in a cemetery feels so cliché that I almost don’t want to… except it’s the best choice, so I do it anyway. There’s a cedar grove there; it’s great. Hopefully the neighbors don’t see me coming or going.

I went to the cemetery at sunrise. I got the timing right, but I still didn’t really see it. There were trees in the way again.

Finally, I decided I just had to trespass. There’s an open ridge nearby that slopes down on each side to farm properties. The properties host hayfields, not forests, so it’s possible to see almost to the horizon. At the foot of the driveway to one of these properties stands a stately oak tree. The tree might just provide enough cover for my trespassing.

I woke while it was still dark. I walked down the road, toward the tree, in the dark. I gripped the paper with the incantation in my hand. I sat at the base of the tree, and waited.

The sunrise was lovely. It certainly wasn’t a magically climactic moment that gave me a miraculous new understanding. But a few things shifted that day.

Notably, I don’t silently snark at people who talk about sunrises or dawn or early morning birdsong. That odd chip has been removed from my shoulder.

Also, I find it easier to wake closer to sunrise, and I do wake up a little bit earlier (mostly).

Overall, I was fascinated at how confronting this activity was. I needed to explore that. What did I have against the Sun?

For someone who has designed her whole life toward the goal of being outside, I have a weird relationship with the summer. It’s not exactly my favorite. You might even say it’s my least favorite. (Ok, admittedly, this June has been amazing, and that is 100% due to with more time with John which is 100% due to his amazing farm crew, so if any of you are reading this, thank you!)

Still, historically, May and June are the most difficult months of the year for me, even though they are also wonderful because all the flowers are blooming.

In many spiritual circles, the focus is undeniably on the Moon: it’s all Divine Feminine, dreamwork, intuition, etc.

Solar magic tends to be ignored because, for a long time, our culture has been dominated by patriarchy, rationalization, rules, structure, and so forth. Connecting with the Moon is a way of reclaiming skills and powers that have been de-prioritized or outright persecuted.

Personally, I had come to associate the Sun and Solar energy to overwork, exhaustion, and burnout.

Which is exactly what happens when the Sun (or Solar energy) is imbalanced in your life. My life had been way out of balance for over a decade, and I was tired. Of course I shied away from the sun.

I think this experience is common. We push ourselves so hard, we get exhausted, and our connection to our own Solar Power becomes fraught. That power has hurt us, so we disconnect from it.

But here's the thing: the Sun is the source of energy for our entire planet. It’s the primary source of energy for you, in every way. All the food that you eat comes from Solar energy that plants converted into something you can eat. The air you breathe comes from the plants that are sustained by the Sun.

When you disconnect from Solar energy, you cut yourself off from the power source for the entire planet. You disconnect from your own Solar Power.

This is a problem when you’ve got goals, visions, and ideas.

All those dreams you dreamed up during your moonlight journalling sessions, all those mugwort-induced visions and intuitive hits, they need the energy of the Sun to come forth. They need your Solar Power to manifest.

There is no one way to connect with the Sun. The Sun is everywhere! I’m certainly not going to tell you to wake before dawn and try three times before successfully viewing a sunrise (which, btw, I have not done since).

But I will say this: balance is necessary. And if you’re having trouble manifesting your visions, there’s a strong chance you’ve disconnected from your Solar energy.

Summer Solstice, aka peak Solar Season, is the perfect time to explore this energy.

As I said, there are limitless ways to do this. But if you want to do it with garden magic, fairies, and guided ritual, I invite you to check out The Outward Spiral: A Summer Solstice Celebration. It’s solar magic, there for the taking. No waking at dawn required.

I hope you're finding some balance in this intense season. Flowers help ;)

yours in morning sun rays,

Amanda