#summerstillness

Straight from the Studies

Summer Stillness: The Soil of Inspiration - Ancient Wisdom, the New Moon, and a Dylan Thomas Poem

Creativity isn’t about chasing ideas but making space for them to land. In the quiet hum of a summer afternoon, the reflective darkness of a Leo New Moon, or the evocative lines of Dylan Thomas’s I See the Boys of Summer, we find the alchemy of inspiration. For artists, poets, and those who chart the stars, creativity thrives in the interplay of nostalgia’s ache, the stillness of a receptive mind, and the restless wind of inspiration. These forces, memory, pause, and cosmic energy, transform fleeting moments into lasting art, reminding us that time’s passage is not a loss but a battery for creation. Moment of Quiet in the Heat Last week, I sat by my window for a few minutes, no phone, no music, just the hum of a distant lawnmower and the rustle of a butterfly bush. As I settled into the stillness, my mind, usually a storm of daily clutter, began to quiet. A sense of calm washed over me, softening the edges of my thoughts. It was as if the stillness had created a fertile ground, a soil of inspiration, where ideas could take root and flourish. Then, a thought emerged: Creativity isn’t about chasing ideas, but about making space for them to land. It felt like a whisper from the past, a reminder from the ancients who knew that stillness is the cradle where inspiration grows. The Ancients Knew: Stillness as a Sacred Practice Long before modern productivity hacks, ancient cultures revered stillness as a path to insight. The Stoics called it skhole, not idleness, but “leisure for thought.” In Buddhist shamatha (or Zhiné in Tibetan) meditation, a quiet mind becomes a mirror, reflecting truths hidden by noise. The Greeks believed the Muses visited only when the mind was receptive, not racing. These practices teach us that stillness is not passive but an active engagement with our inner world. In the desolate quiet of a summer field, as in Dylan Thomas’s I See the Boys of Summer, we create space for memories and emotions to surface, planting the seeds for creative expression. Dylan Thomas & The Alchemy of Nostalgia In Dylan Thomas’s I See the Boys of Summer, I find a vivid mirror for the creative process, where mindfulness summons nostalgia as a muse.

“I see the boys of summer in their ruin / Lay the gold tithings barren,”

Thomas writes, conjuring youth’s golden moments crumbling into dust. The “ruin” here is not an end but a necessary unraveling,a clearing of the “barren” fields of the mind, much like mindfulness asks us to release clutter to make space for inspiration. The poem’s restless “wind,” stirring “the grass and the mind,” becomes a metaphor for the creative act itself: a force that disrupts stagnation, turning memory into poetic alchemy. Like the summer solstice, when the sun pauses before descending toward winter, Thomas’s boys call artists to pause, letting nostalgia’s bittersweet tide,youth’s vibrancy shadowed by time,flood the heart. This tension between decay and renewal echoes the astrological cycle of seasons, where endings birth beginnings. The boys’ “dogdayed pulse” , a nod to Sirius, the Dog Star, whose heliacal rising marks the hottest “dog days” of summer, culminates in “the pulse of summer in the ice”, capturing this duality: even in winter’s chill, the memory of warmth fuels creation. Thus inspired, we transform the “barren tithings” of our past into art’s eternal harvest, as timeless as the stars we chart.

Full Text of I See the Boys of Summer by Dylan Thomas Here Astrology & the Leo New Moon: Planting Seeds of Becoming Astrology gives us another language for this creative process. This month’s Leo New Moon is a blank slate, a dark, quiet sky inviting us to plant new intentions. Leo, ruled by the sun, is the sign of self-expression and heart-centered creation. As S.J. Anderson beautifully notes in Leo New Moon: Your Words Become Reality, this new moon is “a dance of becoming.” It’s a powerful time to reflect on who you are and what you wish to create, not just for now, but for the changing years ahead. Mercury’s retrograde motion adds another layer: a call to review your self-talk and inner narrative. By combining these astrological insights with mindfulness practices, we can harness the creative potential of the Leo New Moon and cultivate a deeper sense of self-awareness. The new moon’s symbolism, darkness, renewal, and the fluid potential of water, mirrors the creative process. Just as water flows and transforms, the new moon encourages us to release old stories and plant new ones. This astrological moment aligns with the stillness of Thomas’s barren fields, offering a cosmic pause to set intentions that shape our reality. Conclusion: In the Soil of Inspiration Summer stillness is not about doing nothing, it’s about being present. It’s about soaking up the sun, letting memories rise, and allowing ideas and intentions to root deeply. Dylan Thomas shows us that nostalgia can be a creative force; the ancients remind us that stillness is sacred; and the Leo New Moon whispers that intention, planted in quiet, grows into something beautiful. So this summer, try this: sit still. Let the world speak. Notice the “boys of summer” in your own life. Honor your memories, revise your self-talk, and plant seeds of intention in the fertile ground of your own stillness.

What will you grow in the gentle darkness of the new moon?

What gold lies buried in your memories, waiting to be transformed?

Astrologer S.J. Anderson Takeaway quote from SJ Anderson’s video (watch here) ”You know the brain will have so many different versions of reality and so many untruths float around in the brain. And that's the beauty of meditation is you're not gripped by that. You actually get a little bit of freedom and you see that, oh wow, I don't have to believe my thinking.”