By Chris Eldridge Copyright 12/21/2023
It had been a tough few years.
The Plague had come among us in 2020, bringing isolation. Events that had once been in person were transitioned to be held in the virtual world. The continuation of these events was needed for certain, but there was a big difference to the experiences from times past.
I too had succumbed to the isolation. Going out and being among people took a lot more energy than it had before. Whether this was due to the plague, getting older, or a combination of things, I cannot say. I just knew it was so. Yet this year I was going to do something different.
In years passed I had observed this Longest night with friends. We would gather in a circle. We would reenact the dying of the light at Sunset by extinguishing candles till the room we were in was dark. There would be drumming and singing in the darkness as we reached out to the Sun to call it back. Then after a time a single candle would be lit as a sign that the light would be reborn at Sunrise. I had done this rite, or variations of it, with many people over the years. Those people were now distant from me in both in miles and in circumstance. I could not gather with them this year, but I would revisit the past in my memories.
I prepared my space. I set up a comfortable chair with a small round table in front of it. On the table I would create a circle of 12 votive candles, and in the center a large Jar candle that smelled of Cedar and Spruce. Nearby was my drum and my flute. These I would play in the dark as my way of calling back the light tonight. In final preparation I lit all the candles and let the scent of the large one fill the room. The space was ready. Was I?
Settling into my chair I took a few moments just to let it sink in. Taking some deep breaths to shift from one way of thinking to another, I began my rite.
Each of my twelve candles I would use as a focus to bring back a memory of celebrations gone.
The first memory was an odd one for it was of a time when the path I followed was different than the one I travelled now. Different, yet sharing a deep inner message that was in harmony. I recalled standing with my Parents and my Sister around an evergreen wreath with four candles already ablaze and a white pillar candle in the center. I would be the one to light the center candle this year. I would become the light bringer, the Herald, that announced the birth of a son. A son whose story is about bringing light into the world.
With the next Candle, the memory that came was certainly a special one. I stood in a circle of friends and acquaintances. Beside me was one who I’ve known in many lives. Our hands were wrapped in the cord of our Handfasting as together we enacted the Rite of the Lights return.
I will not relate all the memories I relived as I extinguished my circle, as some were fleeting and others too intimate to share. Finally, as the darkness was complete in the world outside, I extinguished my final candle. The Darkness had come.
I reached for my flute and played a quick succession of tunes, some known, others created on the spot. I next reached for my drum and started a slow simple rhythm. I was surprised to have another memory intrude from the past as I did this. It was of a night like this one with a gathering of friends who as the Sun set, began to drum. From that moment, till the rising of the Sun the next day, a drum beat of some sort would continue all night. I took this as a sign that this drumming rite would need to be reenacted in the coming years.
Finally, my hands grew weary, and I stopped to sit for a while in the darkness. I looked within to feel the spirit of this season. I can’t say it was quiet, as the sounds of the outside world did its best to intrude, yet I simply did not acknowledge them.
I closed my eyes, and at some point, I must have drifted, as the next thing I recall was being in a different place. Looking out I could see I was in a high place, and the world was lit only with stars. Before me was a bonfire, and around it I began to notice other people suddenly appearing. It must have been cold, as there was snow on the ground, but I did not feel cold. Either the heat of the fire, or some other inner fire, kept me warm.
Directly across from me there was a young man and he appeared to be chanting. I could not hear him with my ears, but in my head his words were clear: “Light is Returning, Light is Returning”. I took up his chant, and so did all of those others gathered around. This continued for quite a while, yet I know not how long. The next thing I recall was the young man looking directly at me and I was shocked. For the eyes that shone in that fire light I knew very well. I had seen them every day staring back at me from my mirror. He nodded in acknowledgement of this understanding I had just received. He then turned to the direction I took to be East, as there was a lightening to the sky in that direction. All in the circle turned that way, just in time to catch the first fiery spark of the returning Sun as it came over the horizon.
I returned to myself with a start and found I was back in my dark room. I reached for a match and relit my central Candle. For though in the part of the world in which I now lived Sunrise was still many hours off, I knew that the Light had returned.
Sleep did not come easily after that, for I wished to return to that strange night in that other time.
Perhaps next year I will.
Starsong's Cauldron 