Summer Solstice: A Still Point for Meditation, Nature, and Anxiety Relief
A Solstice Meditation + An Ancestral Recipe
When anxiety floods your mind and the pressure to “keep going” feels overwhelming, stillness might feel like the last thing you need—but it’s exactly what the Summer Solstice invites you to do… be still.
The topic of today’s episode is what to do when you feel lost… Fitting for the political chaos we continue to experience, as well as the larger season invitation. In this reflective and grounding episode, I’ll guide you through a mossy metaphor that gently invites you to stop, listen, and reconnect with your body’s inner wisdom.
In this episode, you’ll learn:
✨Why pausing—rather than pushing—can be the most resilient choice when you feel lost
✨How nature offers powerful parallels for managing anxiety and reconnecting with self
✨A simple but profound meditation technique to ground yourself when overwhelmed
Take a breath, find your a moss patch to rest on (real or imaginal), and listen now to reconnect with your calm center.
🎧 The nature soundscape you hear in today's episode invites us to journey from ocean, to jungle, to forest. You will hear:
Chimes and bowl recordings of Opal Hopkins
Ocean Surf: Maui
Jungle Frogs: Borneo Indonesia (Kalimantan) - Iban Territory
Jungle bird at night (common pootoo): Amazon Basin Ecuador - Cofan Territory
Wind and creek: Pacific Northwest
Thank you to Nick McMahan for today’s nature field recordings, sound design, and editing; and thank you to Brianna Nielsen for production and editing support.
Ancestral Recipes; Ancestral Hope
This past weekend, I sat in my parent’s home thumbing through an aged, crumbling cookbook of my paternal grandmother’s, and inside its splattered pages, I discovered a bevy of handwritten recipes - on slips of paper, old receipts, the back of envelopes…
The one in the photo above is my favorite - a clearly loved-on recipe for baked beans - because it references “mama Nina” - my paternal great-grandmother - and because my dad remembers his mom making this recipe frequently.
Feeling this line of connection to the past was heartening in a way that very little is these days. A reminder of all of those who came before, their own struggles and perseverances, and the importance of small, tender acts of care.
I’ll be making baked beans on the Solstice this year as I reflect on feeling lost, wayfinding, and navigating tough times.
I’m curious, what feels heartening and connective in this time for you?
