Summer Solstice | Day 171 of my 2023 Journal

In Scandinavia, with the long horrible dark winters and the short blazing summers, the summer solstice is a very, very special time of year.

I remember, when we lived here, how I used to love this time of year: the green, the light, the flowers, the energy. Over the years, I came to call it the Summer Psychosis because, to be honest, everyone goes a bit crazy in summer, needing the sun so much, going out, and staying up all night. Later, in my thirties and forties, I realized I suffered from Season Affective Disorder and might love the summertime even more because in May when the light is back, I too come back from a deep darkness. I also learned life is not necessarily better in the summertime.

I lost my grandmother one year in June. And just before we moved out of Denmark, literally a week before we moved out of the house and began the transition to a nomadic lifestyle, we lost a family member we never had the chance to get to know. On Summer Solstice Day, my cousin lost her first child during birth; little Elna never got to breathe, close her fist around our index fingers, to smile at our faces. We held her tight for a few days, but we never felt her heartbeat; we never smiled at her toes moving freely.

I do still love Summer Solstice. It is magical.

One of the reasons we chose to become nomadic was my winter depression, and one clear sign for us was when I started worrying at Summer Solstice. On the shortest night, I would know how the rhythm was turning, how the darkness was coming, and it would ruin everything for me.

Now, I have been out for five years. Five consecutive years with no winter depression. The nuances are still deeper; as life moves on and we learn, things happen, and we grow to live with them. Or without them. I am moving on without my grandmother, without little Elna, who would have been five yesterday, and without my mother, who died in our first nomadic year; I move on and through it all, and the sweetness of life seems sweeter, namely because I know the other side.

There is no guarantee and no real hope of ever understanding. I know life can be hard because of things that could go wrong and because I can go wrong. When I was younger, I felt the need for everything to be okay for me to be able to feel any happiness, but as I grow wiser, I know I can enjoy a moment even in the harshest of contexts, and I also know I trust God, I trust the process, and I know my part in it all: To be present and ready.

To me, Summer Solstice is a powerhouse, a diamond, a complex symbol of everything that matters and how.

Happy turning of the year, people.

Love and light

Cecilie Conrad

Thank you for reading
I would love to hear from you. Listen to your thoughts and reflections - or praise :) It is often emotional to share our life like this, and we get very happy when we get feedback from you. So feel free to share a comment below 😋