Root Into The Light

There’s a moment each year when the sun lingers just a little longer. When golden light stretches across the sky and the Earth feels fully alive.

This is the Summer Solstice — a turning point. A peak. An invitation to witness both your blooming and your boundaries.

In the language of the seasons, summer is the time of expansion. It carries outward energy — expression, creation, embodiment. But like all seasons, it’s layered. The solstice also marks the quiet beginning of our return to darkness. It asks: What will you carry forward? And what is ready to burn away?

For me, this season isn’t about doing more. It’s about alignment. Letting the energy of light guide me inward just as much as it invites me outward. It’s an opportunity to recalibrate the nervous system and tend to the places where I may be giving too much, blooming too quickly, or forgetting the roots beneath the rise.

This is where flower essences come in.

During the solstice season, I work with a few specific essences that help hold the energy of visibility, strength, and softness — without tipping into overwhelm or performance.

Rose helps regulate the heart space, especially if you’ve been overgiving or feeling emotionally raw. Sunflower supports the solar plexus, your inner sun, helping you embody a radiant but grounded sense of self. Yarrow is a protector — a must-have if your energy has felt porous or you're carrying what isn’t yours. And Calendula softens communication, so your voice can come through clearly without force or fear.

You don’t need a complicated ritual.

On the solstice, I often light a single candle, take my chosen essence, and sit quietly with two questions: What in me is ready to shine more fully? What in me is ready to be burned away?

Sometimes I write. Sometimes I say it out loud. Sometimes I just feel it. And that’s enough.

This season isn’t about proving anything. It’s about honoring the truth of what’s already growing. The bloom doesn’t need to be perfect to be powerful.

Let this be the season where you allow more light in — without losing the roots that hold you