Let's Celebrate the Solstice (and the Joy of Limitations)!

Iceland, not Italy: On wedding anniversaries, trip planning, and... rice.

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Hi friend,

Welcome to the Solstice Edition of this newsletter!

If you want to do something special this week—which brings us the sun’s turning point on Thursday and a full moon on Friday—I got you covered!

If you are in the mood for some reflection, check out my solstice ritual.

I also a mini-ritual here in Iceland where I asked for a solstice blessing for my subscribers:

Wait, Iceland? Yes, I am in Iceland.

With my brother. Whom I haven’t seen in half a year.

And my parents. Who are celebrating a big anniversary. On the solstice! Which we will spend in a place that has the midnight sun.

I’m beyond excited!

And I (sort of) took y’all with me. Inspired by

Jenna Newell Hiott

, who has gemstones to represent each subscriber, I started… counting rice.

One per subscriber to be exact:

192 rice grains to represent 191 of you (and me, hah!). We are now up to 200 souls so I will add more rice to this.

Rice Rice Baby

How did I end up choosing rice grains for this? Well, it was the day before my trip and I didn’t have time to organize anything else. Plus, rice grains are so light and small, making them perfect for travel.

What initially felt like a limitation turned into a positive for me.

I love how rice is both humble and abundant, providing nourishment for so many people worldwide. In many cultures, rice is often used in rituals, so there’s a rich tradition behind it. And while each rice grain is its own entity, it’s also part of a wider whole made from the same stuff (kind of like our souls).

What I learned from this project is that counting individual rice grains is exactly as hard as I imagined it to be. :)

Anyway, these rice grains (plus extra ones for new subscribers) are now in Iceland, and hopefully enjoying the energy.

For instance, this beautiful place:

Hraunfossar. (At least I hope it is…)

Our adventure is a great example of how “limitation can bring liberation” (the theme I picked for this month):

The joy of limitation

For months, planning this anniversary trip was really challenging. People kept on suggesting destination after destination: “We could go to Italy!” or “How about Portugal?” (I know, I know… it’s a quality problem to have. But it is still a pesky problem when you are trying to plan for the year ahead!)

My parents wanted this anniversary trip to be special. They also wanted to bring the wider family on this trip, including their kids’ spouses and offspring.

The plans kept on getting bigger and bigger, which made it harder to make a choice.

Eventually, I put my foot down.

You see, I live on a different continent than my parents and brother. And I didn’t want to spend the better part of a day traveling, dealing with jet lag, and then doing the same in reverse in a few days.

Limitations can bring creative solutions

I tend to think that every problem has a perfect solution. The only challenge is to find that solution. Sometimes, that requires getting creative. (Interestingly, limitations can often help increase creativity.)

So, I suggested we go to Iceland. Iceland is perfect for our needs. It’s only a four-hour time difference for me, making jet lag easier to handle. The flight is shorter. I don’t need a connecting flight. Which means it’s more feasible to fly over for just a week.

My parents were skeptical. What about the erupting volcano? They were also disappointed—like most Germans, they always wanted to spend their vacations somewhere warm. (Ideally Italy. I suspect it’s either the amazing food or some latent Stockholm Syndrome induced by the Roman Empire.)

We started moving ahead despite my parents’ disappointment. Finally, arrangements were being made. Details nailed down.

And just as the trip was getting closer, my parents suddenly got super-excited about everything. One person they know even helped construct the organ in the church in Reykjavík. So, my parents will go there and take pictures for him.

It’s not just organs in churches, though. (Thankfully!)

There’s a volcano to see.

Glaciers.

A picture I took on a glacier.

Who needs warm weather anyway?

That, my friend, is the power and joy of limitation!

Warmly,
Louise

P.S.: Here’s the link again to the Solstice Ritual:

I offer my public articles as a gift, without a paywall. If it feels right to support this project financially, I’d love for you to become a paid subscriber.

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Playlist for this newsletter:

Vanilla Ice—Ice Ice Baby: In my head, I substitute “rice” for “ice”. Once you hear it, you can’t unhear it. Don’t blame me, I didn’t come up with it… (all credit goes to my brother and his friends)

Phantom Planet—California: In my head, I’m substituting “Reykjavík” for “California”. Same difference, right? ;)

Soundgarden—Black Hole Sun: In my head, I’m substituting “midnight sun” for “Black Hole Sun”.

When looking up this song, I found the following statement (which I love):

“Greg Prato of AllMusic noted that the song was ‘one of the few bright spots’ of the summer of 1994 as the world—and Seattle, of course—was still jarred by the death of Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain in 1994.”

Here’s to bright spots—whether in 1994 or 2024: