Solstice, thresholds, and why we just need to pause.

The (free) Pause at the Threshold event, and how we combat our default setting

For the next two weeks I am running a (completely free) online ‘mini-retreat’ with the intent for us to take time pause and realign when things start to snowball.

Focused around the Summer Solstice, this free event will span the next couple of weeks, with daily emailed prompts and three separate online events. You can find complete details and links to the sign up pages on my website.

Below is my talk about the solstice, thresholds, creativity, and why it's so important (and difficult) to create during difficult times.

You can find the full text of the talk below.

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Why now? Why have this event now?

For one, the summer solstice is the longest day of the year. No, the day itself isn’t longer, it’s still 24 hours. Unfortunately for us workaholics.

But what we’re really talking about is sunlight. From sunrise to sunset, daylight will span the longest it will be for the whole year. At least in this hemisphere of the world. From here on, we lose a minute of sunlight about every three days.

In the past—or for those who are in agriculture—this would be a time to take full advantage of every second of daylight to get things done. After this, with the days becoming shorter and shorter, it’s not just daylight we’ll be losing. It’s time before the cold and dark of winter sets in. It’s a warning that winter, a time of less, a time of strife, is crawling nearer.

Today in the modern world most of us are removed from that particular struggle. But that doesn’t mean the solstice doesn’t mark change, whether we’re aware of it or not.

Now—this year and this solstice—that is more true than ever in living memory.

I don’t need to go into the vagaries of what’s happening in the world for us to understand what I’m talking about. We are in unprecedented times, even as those times take the vague silhouette of times that came before.

But let’s be honest. There is struggle ahead of us.

With all the noise, with many of us worn down already, moments like this are even more important because it’s a reminder.

A reminder to sit and take a breath. A moment to pause, to look behind us and in front of us and find our own solid ground. To not forget as we step forwards what is is that fuels us. To gather ourselves, our wit, our strength. To remind ourselves of who stands next to us.

I called this event Pause at the Threshold because we’re in a moment between two spaces. A threshold.

Physically a threshold is just a space between two places. The doorway between inside and outside, the separation between two rooms. You’re one place and then you’re another.

When we’re talking spiritually a threshold is any moment of change, or a space of liminality. The in-between. It could be between the spiritual and mundane, life and death, dark and light. A moment of weightlessness before a fall or flight.

I know we’ve all at some point in our lives stepped from one room to another and forgotten what we came there for. In times like these, we can end up doing the same thing. Operating on our default setting.

We’re here today to stand in that doorway and try to remember.

So for this solstice, as we step from one time into another, let’s pause.

Let’s not forget the strength we have. For many of us writing, and creativity as a whole, is not just a hobby or a profession, it’s the way we understand the world and ourselves. Whether it be writing, art, video, song, what have you.

People often laud classical fiction like 1984 as predicting the future, but we forget that these stories were reactions to the times the writers lived in.

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins is a more modern example. It was inspired by the Greek myth of Theseus and the Minotaur. As a punishment for previous deeds, Athens was required to send seven boys and girls to Crete where they would be put within the Labyrinth to be devoured by the monstrous Minotaur.

But it was also inspired by the phrase “panem et circenses.” Bread and games, or bread and circuses.

Originally coined by Roman satirical poet Juvenal, the phrase references superficial appeasement. Gaining public approval by diversion or by meeting only the immediate or base needs of a populace. The world The Hunger Games exists in is even called Panem, the latin word for bread.

I’m sure we can all extrapolate on examples of this exact concept in our modern world.

Collins has said that she only ever writes a new novel when she has something to say, and the fact that she has released yet another prequel to the hunger games in the past year is not a coincidence. She is using her fiction as a way to see things for what they are, and help others see it too.

But the paradox of creativity as a way of understanding and confronting our reality, is that in times like this it becomes a struggle to find the energy and power to do so.

We’re tired. We’re exhausted and it’s not a flaw in the system. It’s purposeful. A tired populous is an easier one to control.

So what do we do? As individuals, as creators?

There’s no quick or easy answer. Things like this event, things where we take the time to reflect and talk and create can help.

Now that we are all starting to understand how little social media is delivering on its promise, we have to start finding new ways to foster communication and create community.

More of us are looking locally, either finding or founding groups to help not just with organizing, but to remind each other of our why. Not just to help each other manage logistical issues, but to help each other face the mental and emotional impacts. To create solidarity. To support each other.

My hope is that we find and create more spaces in time like Pause at the Threshold. That among all the noise and the pain that we find ways to center ourselves. To create so that we can understand.

And time. Things are not settling, and they may not for a while, but every season ends.

There will always be another solstice, another longest day, another longest night.