We are only just past the winter solstice and already I sense the presence of more light at the end of the day. I am always seeking light, wandering the house in the early morning opening blinds, lighting candles and turning on lamps as soon as dusk settles in. It isn't just that my old eyes need light to read (although they do, they really do) but that my spirit needs it to breathe. Although I love real light, love pulling open all the window shades and letting in pour in, I often I keep draperies pulled tight across the window to my soul. Curtains of guilt, self doubt, fear, and regret not only prevent light from entering my heart, but also prevent me from allowing my own inner light to shine. They have hung there for years, strewn with cobwebs and laden with dust.
As we move into a new year, I want so much to pull aside those musty coverings, expose the things that hold me back and plummet my spirit into darkness. I want to let light shine on my hopes and dreams - the ones that tell me my life is worthwhile, that I have something to offer the world, that my love can make a difference.
This morning I will put away the wreaths and ornaments and Christmas candles, tuck them safely into boxes and bags where they will wait patiently until next December as I live out the year in front of me. As lovely as they are, their time has passed and the house will feel cleaner and brighter without them.
This afternoon I will spend some time with these pages. I will give myself the gift of seeking clarity for my spirit, purpose for my mind, and a focus for my work. And I will ponder the message in this short film by Katrina Kenison, whose new book I am so very eager to read.
Mostly I will look for light.
Inside and out.
May your year be illuminated by love and peace. And may all your dreams come true.
*Image by photographer Lars Ven De Goor