Today is the solstice.
The still point.
The turning of the light.
The day we cross from remembering into becoming.

The dragonfly does not rush this moment.
It lives an entire lifetime beneath the surface—breathing through water, adapting to pressure, learning stillness inside density.
Then one day, without drama or announcement, it climbs the stem.

What happens next is sacred labor.

It releases the old casing.
It pauses.
It lets the sun do what only the sun can do.

Its wings fill slowly.
Blood becomes light.
The body becomes iridescent.

Nothing is added.
Nothing is forced.
Everything that was always there finally has room to breathe.

This is where we are.

The winter solstice marks the return of the light, yet more importantly, it marks the moment we choose to rise toward it.
Not as who we were beneath the surface.
As who we are now that the density has taught us what it could.

Today is not about striving.
Today is about accountability.

So we ask, gently and honestly:
   •   What identities are we still wearing that already served their purpose?
   •   What loyalties to old systems, old wounds, old roles are still tethering our wings?
   •   What stories of survival are no longer needed in a body that is ready to live?

The dragonfly does not carry the water with it into the sky.
It honors the water by leaving it behind.

Those called in this awakening were never chosen to stay submerged.
We were shaped by the depths so we could emerge with clarity, balance, and sight in all directions.

The solstice is the signal.
The stem is before us.
The sun is present.

All that remains is the willingness to let the old casing split—
and trust that what unfolds next already knows how to fly.

✨
Today, we rise.
Today, we allow the light to meet us.
Today, we become visible in our true form.