Winter Solstice

Watercolor on paper

Today is the darkest day of the year. Yet here, in the darkness, the light becomes clearer.

The Winter Solstice in the Northern Hemisphere has always been a big part of my life. Ever since I was little, my family would carve out time for reverence, carve out time to accept the darkness and carve out time to find the light. We would take candles, put on our snow pants and thick coats, go out into the darkness, then sit with our candle until it went out, well, try to anyway–my sister and I were pretty little.

I think my parents wanted my sister and me to understand the balance between light and dark, especially as women, that a good life was not one full of pure happiness but one that struck harmony between the dark and the light. By tasting darkness, we have a better chance of understanding light.

Through the years, our “candle time” evolved as we did. I distinctly remember choosing smaller and smaller candles because I knew I didn’t want to spend my time wishing I could be somewhere else, somewhere warm. Now, we light a path through the forest behind our house with candles. Now, we share this balance of darkness and light with friends and family, and it’s become a bit of an institution.

Today’s piece is of the snow grottos we make to light the trail. When they are filled with big candles, you can see the grottos through the forest. You can see the points of light that pull you through the darkness, through yourself, and back home.

And that is what I think this time of year is about: creating light that shines brighter because of the darkness, creating light that carries us through the darkness, and creating light for us to trust that even if we can’t see it in front of us, we know that further down the trail, they’ll be another pocket of light to guide us, on and on.

184 days done, 181 to go.