Winter Solstice Visitations
submitted to us
It is the Winter Solstice. You step outside. Tendrils of fog slither around the waning moon, gradually obscuring it. Gradually the fog forms a blanket though which you can hardly make out your surroundings. The cold seeps into your bones.
You step back in, light a candle, and curl up in your favorite chair. The darkness looms just outside the candle flame. You feel lonely and the room, usually so familiar and comforting, seems to cry out for familiar faces that are not there. Your soul echoes the cry.
You are adrift, cut off from warmth and love. Why? One of the faces begins to speak. It is not a face you want to see; someone you have not loved as you should.
“I am the past,” it says mournfully. “I am the things you wanted to say but held back, the tears you wanted to cry but held back, the hugs you wanted to give but held back. Oh, how you could have lightened my burden!” The face steps into the candlelight, eerie, a study of line and shadow. Your visitor is wrapped in heavy chains.
Your tortured soul cries,” I am so sorry I put those there!”
Your visitor steps closer and its voice softens tenderly. “The Universe has heard your cries, and I offer hope. I love you and that alone can transform you. Journey with me.”
A slim hand reaches out. You hesitate at first but, in a leap of faith, you grasp it. Instantly you find yourself in a time and place where you felt loved and secure. Maybe it was just a fleeting moment, but you are there again, feeling what you felt again.
“Linger here. You can return to this place any time,” your visitor says. “As long as you can return, there is hope, there is light.”
You linger. You awake, finding the candle burning brighter. You look for your visitor, but the visitor is gone. But the warmth and love begin to banish the loneliness and cold.
You start as the door creaks open. Beyond it is a dimly lit figure. Who is it? Someone who needs you, whose heart cries out for the love you have to give. You take a moment and observe the barely visible second visitor.
“You have so much to give, so much love. Will you be my soul-friend, my anamchara, and share your light?” the figure asks.
You want so much to share, but don’t know how. You pick up the candle and hand it to your second visitor.
“I don’t see anything I have that’s worth sharing. This candle is all I have.” Your hand shakes but your heart is full as you reach out with the small flame.
The figure smiles and begins to glow. “That is all I need, the simple offering of your whole heart. Thank you; it is more than enough!”
Bright beams of light soon enter the room.
“Thank you. Remember, nothing is too small as long as you offer it with your whole being!” the figure says. You look for the source of the voice, but the bright light has enveloped it and it is gone.
Soon the light fades and the room is again lit by a single candle. But it is enough now, the flame now sends love and warmth throughout the room.
You grow sleepy and doze for a few moments. You wake up and a hooded figure stands before you.
“Can you reveal yourself?” you ask. “Why do you not speak?”
The figure does not answer.
Realization dawns. This figure is the future, yet unformed. You realize you will shape it; it will look as you desire it. Each line, each feature, will be shaped as you open your soul to each day’s opportunity to love, to listen, to care.
You look up to thank your third visitor, but the visitor is gone.
You open the window. A clear, crisp day is dawning. The sun’s rays burst forth over the horizon.
It is your beginning, as it is the sun’s beginning.