Living by Candlelight
Hello Dear Ones!
We are now in the darkest part of the year. Mere days from the Winter Solstice on 12.21.24. I am so excited. I am a sun-worshipper. I always feel that sunlight is an essential nutrient for my vitality. When I haven’t seen the sun in a day, sometimes even an hour, it has a powerful impact on my body and psyche. So, with this being said, I am joyfully anticipating the celebration of the solstice. I am excited to be in the longest night of the year, and then to release into the days in which more and more daylight returns.
Last night, my son wanted to turn out all the lights at dinner. He wanted to eat by candlelight (and the ambient soft light of our holiday string lights). I gritted my teeth and agreed, worried about how this would feel in my sensitive, sun-worshipping body and mind. I’ve been keeping every light on in our home, wood stove fired, in an effort to be okay in the darkness of our short days and long nights.
I was astonished and delighted to experience something I’d forgotten all about: peacefulness. Dining by candlelight felt like an unexpected medicine. I realized that the low light inside allowed me to bear witness to the gently changing light outside, watching it slowly fade into darkness. The low light of our one beeswax candle (and the few white holiday lights) made everything inside our home light up in a sparkly magical way. The landscape of our home literally shape-shifted into a world of hushed awe and wonder. It was incredible.
A few weeks ago we went to Christmas By Candlelight, a candle-lit experience in a living museum (Old Sturbridge Village). It was crowded and busy, but in the midst of it, I caught a feeling that has stayed with me: What is life like when we live by candlelight? What are we missing out on when we live by the blast of LED light?
Years ago, when I lived in Alaska, and was mothering a baby, I did this same thing: Around the solstice I lit our dining space with candles for breakfast and dinner. It was hands-down the best way for me to navigate the darkness. I wasn’t able, at that time, to put it all into words for myself. I just knew it felt wonderful, felt like medicine.
In these candle-lit experiences, the deeply-thinking and deeply-feeling parts of myself are lit up. I can feel a depth far greater than what I experience in my every-day life. Instead of feeling anxiety about the darkness, I feel true peace and wonder inside myself. The texture of this kind of experience is truly intoxicating.
And these candle-lit experiences return some primal part of me to the realm of our ancestors. We were designed to live by candlelight, to work hard only when the sun is up. We were designed to slow down, become hushed, and to rest when the sun is down. We were designed to be in restoration and wonder so much more often than most of us are.
I have heard that some people rely solely on candlelight for the day of solstice (to mark the day with ceremony and meaning). Can you imagine cooking and cleaning by candlelight? Can you imagine sitting down with your beloved people to share a meal, and having the only light source a candle… making the area of illumination only wide enough to delight in one another (and the rest of the home, the life, the land vanishes out of your focus)? Incredible.
And. My sweet light- seeking body and mind respond to this idea as if it were a heroic and brave task. Turning off the lights, striking a match and listening to it sizzle as it catches on a wick. This sounds so simple, and yet it is (these days) truly radical. Truly brave. And truly human.
I always end with an offering of questions to guide you into your own inner dialog, your own inquiry. Here are your questions this week:
What is your relationship to light (and darkness)?
What happens in your body and mind as you read this idea about living (even 20 minutes) by candlelight?
Are you interested in more deeply celebrating this upcoming Solstice? What would resonate as a way to do so?
Warmest and brightest wishes to each of you during this season of darkness and light.
In deep gratitude for everything in this sweet life,
Rebecca
* Disclaimer: This likely goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: Everything I write is for educational purposes only. Nothing I write or share can be deemed diagnostic or medical advice. Nothing I write or share can replace your own healthcare providers or your own internal knowing and wisdom. Period. Please seek tailored medical care and advice via your skilled healthcare team whenever you need it.
