Every year, on the winter solstice, my wife and I have a day without electric lights. We light the fire. We light candles. We open the blinds for the little natural light there is.
We spend the day going inward. We nap, we journal, we dream, we plan. We also cook dinner by candlelight, which makes a godalmighty mess, but there’s something lovely about it at the same time.
We wanted a day where we were able to really experience the turning of the year, but it also serves another purpose: reminding us that the light will return.
There isn’t much difference in the length of today and the length of tomorrow and the length of the day after that. This is the end of the pendulum swing, when the changes slow down to stop, and then slowly reverse before catching momentum and zooming through the equinox.
But in a week or two, you’ll start to see the difference, and in a month, you’ll know. The light is returning, literally and, I would argue, figuratively.
Whatever transition you’re facing right now, the light will return. Not as fast as you’d like, perhaps, or not necessarily in the way you’d prefer. But the light will return, because the world we live in moves and changes and frequently moves and changes in cycles.
Happy Solstice, friends. I’m lifting my mug of tea to you.
Been going through some grief after I made my leap. This is just what I needed to see. Thanks for posting.