A Wrinkle In (Your) Time
Invitation to a Summer Solstice Excavation
When were you most you? Spend some time thinking about this before diving into this very tiny, but powerful, summer solstice ritual.
A good way to begin is to identify the last summer that was all yours? Before summer jobs and/or scholastic demands, before societal norms, expectations, and obligations took over? I hope you were fortunate enough to have such a summer. My growing up years were far from perfect and filled with micro traumas, yet, I received a gift:
The summer of 1984, the summer I turned 14.
I’d just emerged on the other side of a horrible eighth-grade year. I’ve talked to many others who agree: eighth grade is traumatizing. Having a son just one year out from that grade, I can attest that it hasn’t gotten any better (perhaps is much worse). In the summer of ‘84, I wasn’t yet experiencing pressure to conform to society’s version of feminine and sexy. That summer, I experienced an awakening of my true, authentic self. Hearing the call, I stepped up and honored her.
When I returned to my public school that fall of 1984, I felt transformed. I had so much more confidence and a fresh sense of personhood. I’d gained new resources, and those resources were coming from within. There are other times in my life when that same resourced self stepped in to steer the wheel (Hello, 31-year-old Heidi, readying yourself to leave your husband of ten years), but there’s still something intoxicatingly powerful about 14-year-old Heidi.
As I write today, I’ve cued up a playlist on Spotify from the summer of 1984. It’s not my own playlist, but it’s pretty good. The Psychedelic Furs’ “The Ghost in You” is playing at this moment.
And oh, did I read that summer! I hadn’t quite abandoned my beloved Nancy Drew mysteries, but was also reading Madeleine L’Engle books. (A Ring of Endless Light, part of the Austin Family chronicles, was my favorite. It made me want to become a marine biologist someday.) In 1984, the film industry was beginning to focus in on teens. After seeing Footloose, I coveted Lori Singer’s perfect curls, so I permed my newly bobbed hair (gone was the layered mullet of eighth grade, ugh!).
In the summer of ‘84, I spent extended time with my cousins, Bryan and David, at my aunt and uncle’s Prospect Park Minneapolis home. From their home, we walked to the University of Minnesota campus and and hung out in Dinkytown, visiting cool thrift stores (adolescents were allowed free range in those days). I returned home with a new, grungier wardrobe (long before Nirvana hit the scene).
One memorable night, we watched a VHS copy of U2’s Under a Blood Red Sky Live at Red Rocks concert with my cousins’ friends. Hardly anyone I knew had a video player yet, but my Uncle Lee, author of Make Music, Not War, took one out on loan that summer from the school where he taught eighth grade English.
U2’s music became a lifeline.
Twelve years later, my cousins and those same friends would form The Sensational Joint Chiefs, a band that won Best R&B Artist at the 1998 Minnesota Music Awards in a field that included Prince. (Also, Prince also once joined them on the stage at First Avenue!)
The summer of 1984 provided me a magical portal to becoming.
In the ensuing years, I abandoned so many parts of that authentic, resourced self—for relationships with the opposite sex, to please teachers and earn A’s, and to show that, as a woman, I could be whatever I wanted to be. It’s time to reconnect with her.
A Ritual of Excavation
On this summer solstice, please write a letter to your today’s self from a time you identify as being your most resourced self. If that day is today, lucky you. You still might want to hear from her/them/him in written from. By writing this letter, you’ll tap into deeper truths that spend most of their time riding below your surface.
Allow the letter to go in whatever direction your resourced self desires. If you need a starting point, write your resourced-self's hopes and dreams for present-day you. Write from a place of love and understanding for who you are today—out here doing the best you can.
Idea: Use the journal or notes app on your phone. Instead of writing with a pen, have a conversation with your resourced self. Enable the “dictation” function on your phone. The dictation function doesn’t get everything right, but—at this point—it hits about 90% accuracy. I suspect you’ll find some gems from your resourced self when you read the conversation later.
Before (or while) writing you might listen to a playlist or two from that year or summer, or pull out your Vinyl, CDs, and even cassettes. Maybe view some of the fashions from that era on Instagram or Pinterest. Maybe watch some clips of films popular during that time on YouTube. Get yourself a mini time machine to help you find your own wrinkle in time.
Remember. Remember. Remember. Then write.
Thank you for reading. I invite you to subscribe to receive monthly writing prompts, structured practices, and rituals. New rituals appear on the solstice and equinox months. Find more of my writing at www.heidifettigparton.com.
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*I apologize for typos. I wrote this the same day I’m sending it out (usually I give myself a day to edit and proof). I’ve been busy launching Issue 6 of Multiplicity Magazine. Please check out it out. The writing in this issue is terrific!
As I read your post, I have right next to my computer screen "Madeleine L'Engle Herself: Reflections on a Writing Life" complied by Carole F. Chase. She must be walking the halls of the universe today reaching out to those who listen. :)
Tim