It is the longest, darkest night of all that sheds light on our better selves, if we stop and take the time to kindle it.  On this night, the ancients lit bonfires that crackled and sparked to the heavens.  They gathered around hearths.   As close to the heavens and earth as they lived, it was hard to escape a fearsome sense of awe as the planet rounded a corner.

Today, we’re more removed from those global forces. We tend tamer fires.  We light candles and flip a switch to turn on twinkling lights.  But whatever the source, we’re still bound by the same forces.  We’re still compelled to offer light on this night, and when we do, our aspirations come sweetly singing to us from a quiet place, an often too unfamiliar place, in the cathedral of the heart.

By bowing to the darkness, we bow to our own souls, and we witness the soul of the world unfolding. As we wait, as we watch, we witness a miracle.  We embrace mystery, wonder, and hope.

Another year on Earth gently passes, unseen, except to those who are watching, tilted in the direction of the axis, leaning in to feel the shift. 

It’s time to take stock of blessings and review the trials that have and are shaping us even as we stand in the deep shade of the planet’s shadow.  All the candles and trees strung with lights remind us to come together, that we are not alone.

Each tree, each log, each kandelika knows that from this long night, more light will come.  Through some undeserved benevolence of the universe, each day another tiny flicker will join the light of others until the full torching glory of the sun returns.

On this longest, darkest night, let us revel together in hope and certainty.  Let us huddle around the fires that we create with our hearts, minds, and hands, cradling all that is light within us, all that is love, blessing the darkness for holding us in a place where we can see what really matters.

-Radiance Writer

 December 21, 2022

Photo by guille pozzi on Unsplash