Tonight is the longest night of the year. Then, tomorrow, the world starts leaning back towards the light.
I watched the brightness wane and the colors fade from the sky outside my studio window this evening.
Charlie (my toy poodle) was curled up on my lap as the shadows lengthened and the darkness slowly enveloped us.
Our only light was the candle above on my desk.
It was like being embraced by the knowing silence of an old friend.
I spent seven years living in Africa without running water or electricity—me, the Girl Scout, who refused to tent camp. (Because bugs, hello. 🤣)
There, I learned the beauty of living by the rhythms of light and seasons close to the earth. Something we are too easily divorced from in our world lived between screens.
Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE the option of electricity. But I also love leaving it off at times.
At night, when I would light my lantern in Africa, I was always amazed at how the smallest speck of light could banish a room full of darkness.
As I sat in my studio this evening I thought about that again and scratched the following thoughts in a notebook.
On the Longest Night of the Year
On this, the longest night of the year, when the shadows chase the dawn and it feels like the dark is bigger by far than the hope of what's to come. On this, the longest night of the year when the darkness crowds the light, Yet we need but the smallest spark for the flicker of hope to ignite. Even the fiercest night bows and bends to the tiniest lantern flame All the darkness that's ever been can't extinguish one single light that still remains. On this the longest night when the dawn feels furthest away, we don't need the strength of a thousand suns, we simply need to join our flames. DMP • 12/21/24
The news that scrolls by on your screen may feel utterly overwhelming. Your circumstances might be filled with grief that sucks the air from the room.
The future might feel dark and foreboding.
But remember that it only takes the smallest spark of light to chase a room of darkness away.
Beloved, the only thing light has to do to win is show up.
A Simple Evening Practice
Try this with me when you can do so safely.
Gather a candle and a way to light it. Light your candle and turn off the lights.
Notice that it doesn’t matter how dark the darkness is around you, it cannot put out the light of even one small flame.
But the tiniest bit of light chases the darkness.
That reminds me, that no matter how hard things are it only takes a small amount of light to make a huge difference. And each one of us can offer light to one another and the world around us. That friend fills me with hope.
Keep shining friends. None of us has to do this alone. I’m so very glad you are here.
I’ve been feeling blue these past few days; close to tears and especially today. This season used to be my favorite time of year, but since my divorce, has become more difficult for me. I joked (not really) with a friend that as an educator, I hibernate for the holidays: from the day school lets out for the Christmas break until we return for the new year. But the reality is that because I live alone now, it’s just easier on my heart to tuck in at home and disappear for a while. I’m still grieving the life I used to have and holidays are hard.
The opening lines of your post about tonight being the longest night of the year and tomorrow we start turning back toward the light brought a small smile to my face and a little glimmer of hope to my heart.
Because tomorrow is my birthday.
I had planned to treat tomorrow as any other day. Because it’s easier that way.
But tomorrow I will celebrate that we are turning back toward the light.