Pause and reflect
I often use pictures to promote discussion. A creative approach to opening up conversations was bread and butter to me as a teacher and pastoral head but it works just as well in sessions with bereaved clients or individuals thinking about memorial rituals, with couples who are planning their weddings and in coaching A Level students. It’s also a technique I use myself when setting goals for the future. This picture taken by Chris Doel perfectly reflects where I am halfway through the year at the solstice, where day and night are in equal balance, the perfect time to pause and reflect. I’ve come to a crossing point, over one stile and with another to climb, the path ahead clear but for now I’m content to stand in the middle surrounded by wildness, pause, reflect and plan.
The word solstice comes from the Latin solstitium, which means "sun standing still". It describes how the Sun's apparent path north or south in the sky seems to freeze or "stand still" at its extremes before reversing direction. I’m a fan of standing still periodically. I encouraged my students to do it, quite literally in lessons. Standing still burns more calories than sitting, improves posture and promotes mental alertness. Mentally, it creates space for "simply being," preventing overload and burnout and giving you space to reflect on how far you’ve come, what you’ve learned, what hasn’t worked and opportunities to pivot and plan for the future. Pop in a few moments of silence too and you can turbo-boost the effects.
I’ve been so lucky this year to spend the first half of year revisiting my love of teaching by subbing at my old school for colleagues who had moved onto a new school or into maternity leave. There was time to reflect on whether my decision to retire a little early from teaching to focus on other things was the right one. It also gave me a much-needed structure to the week that has made me more productive, more creative and more focused.
The summer solstice has coincided with a pilgrimage to West Wales on some significant anniversaries to place homegrown flowers on my parents’ grave, and clear the overgrowth from the nearby hedge from around their headstone. We used to be down there every summer when the children were little and we still had the house but things are different now. Time moves on; we go less often; the way I honour and think of them is more internal. It’s an ongoing, evolving inner relationship and I can feel a shift this year, a significant anniversary. Now I'm content not to visit the grave and place flowers there. I cook the recipes my mother taught me, grow flowers they showed me how to nurture and pass on to my own children a version of the family rituals they adapted from their parents and grandparents.
Over the next few evenings I’d encourage everyone to sit outside as the sun goes down, to pause, reflect on the year so far and to set some intentions for the next six months until the Winter Solstice. But for now standing still is absolutely fine. In this heat it’s a given. Just make sure you are in the shade with a cool drink in hand.