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Turning Toward the Light: A Solstice Invitation to Come Home to Yourself

There’s something sacred about the longest day of the year. The sun lingers a little longer in the sky, as if reminding us to pause… to soak it in… to honor the light that exists not just above us, but within us. It's a moment suspended in golden stillness—where everything feels just a little more alive, a little more possible.


The Summer Solstice has long been seen as a time of celebration and abundance—a seasonal peak where nature is in full bloom and we’re invited to reflect on our own growth. In many traditions, it’s a moment to light fires, dance with intention, and give thanks for what the Earth has given. But it’s also a deeply personal portal: a chance to notice what we’ve nurtured, what we’ve shed, and what is now ready to unfold.


In the work I do as a coach, I see this exact rhythm mirrored in our own lives.


We plant seeds.

We tend to what matters.

We endure the uncertain weather.

And then—quietly, steadily—we grow.


Honoring Your Becoming

Too often, we rush from one season of life to the next without ever pausing to acknowledge how far we’ve come. We move the goalposts, question our progress, and downplay our wins. We hold ourselves to standards we’d never place on someone we love—and in doing so, we miss the quiet beauty of our own becoming.

But the solstice asks something different of us.

It asks us to be still.

To breathe.

To turn around and truly see the path we’ve walked.


The moments of courage no one clapped for.

The small shifts that didn’t feel like much at the time, but changed everything.

The boundaries set, the healing begun, the rest taken when it would’ve been easier to keep going.


What has unfolded for you so far this year?

Where have you surprised yourself?

What are you proud of, even if no one else saw it?


This time of year is an invitation to witness your own becoming—not through the lens of



productivity or perfection, but through presence. Through grace. Through truth.

It’s about meeting yourself with the same compassion you offer others.

About saying: I see you. I’m proud of you. You’re doing beautifully.


There is no rush. No timeline. No right way to bloom.Only the quiet unfolding of a life lived in alignment with who you are.


The Light Within

Just as the sun rises to its highest point, the solstice calls you to remember your own inner light—the parts of you that shine when you feel most like you. Not the polished version. Not the overextended or overachieving version. But the version rooted in truth. In softness. In strength.


This season is a mirror, reflecting back your brilliance.

Not because of what you’ve done, but simply because of who you are.


Reclaiming that light often begins by unlearning—letting go of the conditioning that told us we had to earn our worth, prove our value, or be everything to everyone.


We let go of the shoulds.

We challenge the quiet beliefs that whisper “you’re too much” or “not enough.”

We untangle from the patterns of people-pleasing, perfectionism, and self-abandonment.

And we begin, ever so gently, to return home to ourselves.


We write new stories.

Ones rooted in worth.

Ones guided by intuition.

Ones that honour the whole self—flaws, fire, and all.


Because your worth isn’t measured by output, busyness, or being constantly available.

It lives in your presence.

Your stillness.

Your energy.

Your essence.


And when you live from that place—aligned, empowered, and aware—you don’t have to chase the light.You become it.


A Turning Point

While the solstice is a peak of brightness, it also marks a turning point. After this day, the light begins its slow descent. The days will gradually shorten. The air, in time, will shift. And while summer stretches on for a little while longer, something quiet begins to change.


There’s something poetic in that—this moment that holds both fullness and transition. It reminds us that even in our most radiant chapters, we are still evolving. Growth isn’t static. It ebbs and flows, asks for reflection, and makes room for release.


This is the invitation of the solstice:

To celebrate how far we’ve come—and to gently, lovingly ask: What now needs to fall away?


What are you being called to release right now?

What’s grown too heavy to carry forward?

What patterns, beliefs, or habits no longer align with the life you’re creating?


And just as importantly—what might you be ready to receive, if only you made the space?


This season isn’t about forcing change or rushing answers. It’s about listening. Honoring the wisdom within. Softly turning toward what feels true.


You don’t need to have it all figured out.

But you do deserve to pause and ask the questions.


And sometimes, that’s where the shift begins.


Try sitting quietly with your hand over your heart and asking:

What is one thing I want to carry forward this season?

Not a task.

Not a goal.

A truth.

A feeling.

A way of being that feels like home.


Let that be enough.


Walking Each Other Home

This solstice, may you find light not just in the sun—but in your breath, your being, your becoming.

May you honour all the quiet ways you’ve grown, even the ones no one else saw.

And may you step into this next chapter with intention, not pressure… with softness, not striving.


You don’t have to do it all.

You don’t have to do it perfectly.

You just have to show up—honestly, gently, and in your own time.


The solstice reminds us that we are part of something cyclical, something ancient.

And like the earth, we are allowed to move slowly, shift direction, and come back to ourselves—again and again.


If this season is calling you to realign with your truth…

To live by your own rhythm…

To reclaim your energy and reconnect with what matters most…


Know that you don’t have to walk that path alone.


This is the heart of the work I hold space for—supporting women in remembering who they are beneath the noise, and helping them build lives rooted in what is meaningful to them, not just motion.


Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.


Lo

xo

 
 
 

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