Meditation: June 15th, 2025
"In the space between thunder and lightning lives the truth that all power begins in stillness, and all stillness contains the seed of wild transformation."
Physical Setting & Preparation
Position yourself where you can feel the electric tension of approaching summer storms—perhaps by an open window where warm air moves restlessly, or beneath the spreading branches of an oak that has weathered countless tempests. If no storm threatens, create the atmosphere within: dim the lights, let a fan stir the air around you, and place a bowl of water nearby to catch light and shadow. Sit with your spine straight but fluid, like a reed that bends without breaking. Your hands should rest loosely, ready to receive whatever energy the sky-mother chooses to send. The air should taste of ozone and possibility, thick with the charge that precedes transformation.
Opening Invocation | Fosgladh
Tha mi ag eisdeachd ri guth na h-iarmailt
(I listen to the voice of the sky)
Anns an Ògmhios meadhanach, cumhachd is sìth
(In mid-June, power and peace)
Feel the pull of this day that balances on summer's threshold—wild strawberries hiding crimson sweetness beneath heart-shaped leaves, the first fireflies beginning their ancient dance of courtship, evening primroses preparing to unfurl their pale cups to catch moonlight. The earth mother draws breath deep into her green lungs while the sky-father gathers his electric strength in towering clouds.
This moment in June's progression carries the weight of decisions approaching like distant thunder. Within this charged atmosphere, we acknowledge two currents that flow through the spiritual landscape: the fierce surge of determination that rises like sap in spring trees, demanding action and forward motion, and the tender ache of feeling vulnerable, skin-thin and raw as a newborn fern unfurling in filtered sunlight.
Body of the Working | Corp
Seas mar chraobh eadar talamh is speur
(Stand like a tree between earth and sky)
Root your awareness deep into the June earth, where the soil pulses with the memory of recent rains and the anticipation of thunder-storms that will split the sky with silver fire. Here beneath your sitting bones, earthworms trace their patient patterns through dark richness, while above, the air trembles with the building energy of weather systems gathering strength in the western sky.
The determination that rises in your chest like a hawk riding thermals—acknowledge it as the earth's own irrepressible force. This is the same power that drives dandelions through sidewalk cracks, that sends oak roots seeking water through solid rock, that compels salmon to leap waterfalls in their ancient journey home. Your determination participates in this vast conspiracy of life refusing to accept limitation.
Tha mo spiorad làidir mar charraig
(My spirit is strong like a rock)
Yet feel how this strength differs from rigid stone. True determination in nature flows like water—persistent but adaptive, finding every crack, every opening, wearing away obstacles through patient pressure rather than violent force. The river that carved the Grand Canyon began as scattered raindrops, each one carrying the same unwavering intention to return to the sea.
Now touch the vulnerability that makes your heart feel exposed as a bird's nest after the leaves have fallen. This rawness is not weakness but heightened sensitivity—the same quality that allows a deer to detect the subtlest shift in wind direction, that enables a flower to track the sun's movement across the sky, that permits a mother bird to hear her chick's call above the chaos of forest sound.
Tha mo chridhe fosgailte mar bhlàth
(My heart is open like a flower)
In nature, vulnerability and strength dance together in endless partnership. The mighty oak that survives centuries of storms does so not through rigid resistance but through deep roots and flexible branches. Its greatest power lies in its willingness to sway, to lose leaves when necessary, to appear vulnerable while drawing strength from sources unseen.
The Deep Working | An Obair Dhomhain
Ceangail ri cumhachd na màthar-talmhainn
(Connect with the power of the earth-mother)
Breathe into the sacred marriage of determination and vulnerability within your body—perhaps feeling it as heat and coolness spiraling together in your solar plexus, or as strength and tenderness braided through your spine like climbing honeysuckle around a garden pole. Here is where the earth mother's deepest healing magic works its transformation.
Her ancient hands, weathered by eons of loving the world through seasons of plenty and scarcity, cradle both your fierce ambition and your tender openness. She who has nurtured countless seeds through the vulnerable moment of germination, who has supported countless trees through the determined reach toward light, understands the medicine your soul requires in this season of your becoming.
Tha mo mhàthair-thalamh a' toirt neart dhomh
(My earth-mother gives me strength)
Feel her energy rising through your bones like the green fire that surges through every growing thing in June's abundance. This life-force knows how to weave determination and vulnerability into the strong, flexible fiber that creates lasting change. Like the spider who spins silk stronger than steel from her own body's tender substance, you can create unbreakable purpose from the marriage of strength and sensitivity.
Let your determination draw nourishment from vulnerability's honest assessment of what truly matters. Let your vulnerability find safety in determination's unwavering commitment to growth. Together, they become the double helix of spiritual DNA that carries the code for authentic transformation.
Bidh mi a' fàs anns an t-sìth is anns a' chumhachd
(I grow in peace and in power)
Imagine roots extending from your tailbone deep into the earth's molten heart, drawing up the patience of geological time, the steadiness of mountain cores, the enduring strength that moves continents millimeter by millimeter across the planet's face. Simultaneously, feel branches extending from your crown into the electric air, sensitive to every shift in atmospheric pressure, every change in the light that filters through summer's green cathedral.
Afterthought | Smuain Dheiridh
Take a moment to contemplate:
What if your determination becomes most powerful not when it hardens into rigid will, but when it learns to flex and flow like water around obstacles? How might embracing vulnerability as a form of strength—rather than a weakness to overcome—change the way you approach the challenges that await you?
Closing Blessing | Beannachd Dheiridh
Tha beannachd na speure is na talmhainn orm
(The blessing of sky and earth is upon me)
Tha mi a' falbh le neart is le tròcair
(I go with strength and with compassion)
Rise slowly, carrying within you the deep knowing that true power grows from the marriage of fierce intention and tender awareness. The same force that builds thunderclouds and splits them open in silver lightning also moves through your being, creating the perfect conditions for whatever transformation your spirit has been preparing through the long months of growth.
Walk forward with the determined gentleness of rain that reshapes landscapes through countless soft touches, the vulnerable strength of new leaves that trust the wind to bring what they need. You are both the lightning and the oak it illuminates, both the storm and the earth it waters.
Slàn leat, a mhàthair-speure. Slàn leat, a mhàthair-thalamh.
(Farewell, sky-mother. Farewell, earth-mother.)