Tag

light

Solstice 2020

I’ve posted about the Winter Solstice almost every single year.

It has always brought me great comfort. Yes, it means we head into the winter, which for many people represents cold and darkness. But actually, this Solstice is a turn toward light.

December 21 is the shortest, darkest day of the year. But the next day, and the next, and the next, we begin gaining minutes of light every single day. And after a few weeks, I always notice – oh my goodness, it’s staying lighter out later.

This year we NEED light. We need hope. We can’t bear any more darkness. And so, on this day, cherish this piece of information: this is it. This is the darkest it’s going to get. We made it. We are headed towards the light.

Towards the Light
(author unknown)

By moonlight,
or starlight,
or in the sun’s bright rays,
I journey,
guiding my way
by keeping
to the light
as best I can.
Sometimes all seems dark,
then I remember
how the poppy turns its head,
follows the sun’s passage across the sky,
then rests in night’s cool shadows,
bowing in thanks
to whatever power
makes the stalk
stand straight and strong,
drawing deep from its roots
a wine dark love.
In moonlight,
the garden glows,
silvering the poppies.
And even by starlight
you can tell
shades of darkness
if you try.
So do not lose heart
when vision dims.
Journey forth
as best you can-
bloom when you are able,
rest when you must,
keep faith,
keep always
towards the light.

Solstice.

Turns out that despite how much I love writing a new solstice post each year, my thoughts don’t change much.

Last year, I wrote:

The Winter Solstice is here.

Oh, how I love this day.

Today, after six long months of turning towards the darkness, we began to turn towards the light.

We gain a minute of light each day – and in a time where life can feel very dark, each minute makes a difference.

The earth begins to propel us towards the light, just as the waves in the ocean propel you to shore. We now ride the wave of the earth, as it cradles us and gently moves us towards hope, and energy, and life.

All of those are still truths I hold firmly in my heart.

And now, there are sunflowers too, in my head and on the wallpaper of my phone, reminding me that even before solstice, even before the world pushes us toward the light, we can move ourselves. We can stretch and grow so that even in our darkest moments we are always, always, always reaching for the sun and any light we can find.

Happy Solstice.

Towards the Light (author unknown)

By moonlight,
or starlight,
or in the sun’s bright rays,
I journey,
guiding my way
by keeping to the light
as best I can.
Sometimes all seems dark,
then I remember
how the poppy turns its head,
following the sun’s passage across the sky,
then rests in night’s cool shadows,
bowing in thanks
to whatever power
makes the stalk
stand straight and strong,
drawing deep from its roots
a wine dark love.
In moonlight,
the garden glows,
silvering the poppies.
And even by starlight
you can tell shades of darkness
if you try.
So do not lose heart
when vision dims.
Journey forth
as best you can—
bloom when you are able,
rest when you must,
keep your faith,
keep always
towards the light.

Solstice

 

The Winter Solstice is here.

Oh, how I love this day.

Today, after six long months of turning towards the darkness, we began to turn towards the light.

We gain a minute of light each day – and in a time where life can feel very dark, each minute makes a difference.

The earth begins to propel us towards the light, just as the waves in the ocean propel you to shore. We now ride the wave of the earth, as it cradles us and gently moves us towards hope, and energy, and life.

Happy Solstice.


Towards the Light (author unknown)

By moonlight,
or starlight,
or in the sun’s bright rays,
I journey,
guiding my way
by keeping to the light
as best I can.
Sometimes all seems dark,
then I remember
how the poppy turns its head,
following the sun’s passage across the sky,
then rests in night’s cool shadows,
bowing in thanks
to whatever power
makes the stalk
stand straight and strong,
drawing deep from its roots
a wine dark love.
In moonlight,
the garden glows,
silvering the poppies.
And even by starlight
you can tell shades of darkness
if you try.
So do not lose heart
when vision dims.
Journey forth
as best you can—
bloom when you are able,
rest when you must,
keep your faith,
keep always
towards the light.

Solstice. Light.

Every year, I write about loving the Winter Solstice. How I love the concept. The idea that on this day, we turn toward the light. All of us. No matter what’s going on internally. No matter what we are sad about, anxious about. No matter what external events may have happened that make us lose sight of the light. Even if we are struggling to stay positive, or focus on the good. Regardless of all of that? We are turning toward the light. Moving in the direction. Minute by minute – literally, minute by minute. I find it so powerful, so comforting, that no matter what, we can trust the earth, trust the sun, trust the seasons, trust the light. The light is coming. We move toward it.

As always – the poem that I read, and re-read, on this day:

Towards the Light (author unknown)

By moonlight,
or starlight,
or in the sun’s bright rays,
I journey,
guiding my way
by keeping to the light
as best I can.
Sometimes all seems dark,
then I remember
how the poppy turns its head,
following the sun’s passage across the sky,
then rests in night’s cool shadows,
bowing in thanks
to whatever power
makes the stalk
stand straight and strong,
drawing deep from its roots
a wine dark love.
In moonlight,
the garden glows,
silvering the poppies.
And even by starlight
you can tell shades of darkness
if you try.
So do not lose heart
when vision dims.
Journey forth
as best you can—
bloom when you are able,
rest when you must,
keep your faith,
keep always
towards the light.

Solstice.

I love the Winter Solstice. Rather than it being an awful, “ugh, I hate winter” day, it’s a day of light. Of us turning towards the light. It’s the shortest day of the year, but it’s the last day in which we turn towards darkness. Each following day brings one more minute of light. I love that knowledge, that we are gaining more and more light each day, that despite how cold or bleak the day may be, the focus is the light. I love tomorrow.

This is one of my most favorite poems, that seems to encompass not only daily life in general, but the idea behind December 21:

Towards the Light (author unknown)

By moonlight,
or starlight,
or in the sun’s bright rays,
I journey,
guiding my way
by keeping to the light
as best I can.
Sometimes all seems dark,
then I remember
how the poppy turns its head,
following the sun’s passage across the sky,
then rests in night’s cool shadows,
bowing in thanks
to whatever power
makes the stalk
stand straight and strong,
drawing deep from its roots
a wine dark love.
In moonlight,
the garden glows,
silvering the poppies.
And even by starlight
you can tell shades of darkness
if you try.
So do not lose heart
when vision dims.
Journey forth
as best you can—
bloom when you are able,
rest when you must,
keep your faith,
keep always
towards the light.

Toward the light

Today, the day that everyone complains about being the shortest day of the year, is one of my most favorite days all year.

Today is the Winter Solstice. The day is short and dark. But starting today, we start turning toward the light. Starting today, we gain a minute of light each day. Despite the cold of winter, and the dreary days, we are ultimately moving in the right direction. Toward light, toward hope, toward peace.

I love today.