It is the dark time of the year. We are nearing the point where the wheel of the heavens turns and the days start to get longer again. Meanwhile we are in the time when we must submit to our own strange dreams and trust that our hearts are stronger and wiser than our conscious minds can understand. For me, the lights of winter solstice are a celebration of our inner lights. Candles, and hearth fires, those sparkly little plug-in Christmas lights that we all love, the stars and Hanukkah lights--we all have our own personal divine name that shines in us whether we know it or not.
I was cleaning out some old books yesterday and in one of them I found a piece of paper with my hand writing on it. Most of what was written there was not interesting to me--old thoughts about questions I don't have anymore--but at the bottom, in another color of ink I wrote:
"The wild beauty of our desire, the dark ambiguity of our grace....."
I do not know why I wrote those words, and to be honest, they scare me a little. It takes courage to carry the largeness of our own vision, to speak our names into the dark, to light that small light of our own souls that is perhaps not a small as we think it is.
Here is the painting that goes along with these thoughts.