The magic and mystery of this one precious night

There was a day not too long ago, when I met up with a beautiful and intelligent young woman at our local farmer's market. She was in the midst of a big transition in her life. We had planned to meet here and I was looking forward to holding space and listening to her journey. It also happens that I found myself in the midst of my own transition. A big one. So big, that faith was sometimes all that I had to hold on to. So big, that sometimes even my faith faltered. 

After years of wilderness training, finding people or places on the landscape based on the directions was second nature to me. So I didn't bat an eye when she suggested we meet on the south side of the market. I pulled into the parking lot and intentionally set aside all that was up for me in my life so that I could listen with full presence to what she was bringing to our meeting.

​I parked my car. I stepped out into the bright fall sunshine and realized I had no idea which way was south. I took a deep breath and turned one way then another, gazing at the sky which was clear as could be, the sun, low, and perfectly placed in the southeast. Still, I could not identify the directions. I closed my eyes, I opened my eyes. It didn't help. One minute I decided I was facing north and the next felt sure I was facing south. Confused, I walked from one entrance to the next.
When we finally met it was clear that I hadn't been sure which entrance was south. I was so embarrassed. I felt ashamed and had the judgement that I should know better after all these years. I wondered how she could trust me to hold her if I didn't even know in which direction I stood. Later, I saw she had posted on social media that we should always know our North.

Tonight, I'd like to offer a different perspective. You see, after all these years of witnessing and holding space as people bravely adventure deeper into their own experience of living. After all these years of my own adventuring, I have come to believe and even to trust in the profound experience of being totally, and utterly lost.

Tonight, on the longest night. Do not seek action steps or bullet points. Do not work to set yourself on a linear path that will bring you to sunrise. You'll miss the magic and the mystery of this one precious night.

The whole universe is conspiring to offer you a time out of time to be in the dark, and to listen for the song that has been waiting just for you.

Tonight is the longest night. As a culture we focus on the light, and it's true, we need the light. But do not fear the darkness. Here there is goodness, nourishment, and the magic of sleeping seeds. Allow yourself to get a little lost. Loosen your grip on who you think you think you should be and listen for the song of who you are. Don't impose outcomes or give directions. Read poetry, take a walk in the night, light a candle or a fire. Be silent. Allow what comes without judgement. This night all of you is safe and held like the smallest of seeds deep within the Earth. This night all of you deserves to be felt and seen. So cry! And laugh, or yell, pray, or whisper for mercy. It's okay. All of it.

Part of the blessing of the dark is that it reminds us of the miracle that is the sunrise. Allow yourself to wonder, "What if it never came? What if the sun never rose again? The sun in me. The sun in the sky."
And then, when at last, the first light begins to grow soft and gray, stretching across the horizon. Allow yourself to feel the childlike wonder and immense gratitude for this everyday occurrence! As much a miracle as your breath, your heartbeat, the sound of your laugh, the tender gift of your tears.

Once the sun has risen tomorrow, perhaps the busyness will come again. There are gifts to buy, lists to mark off, people to visit. 
 
I hope you feel the stillness of the long night in your heart. And the first light of morning guiding your way.

Remember Dear One, you are the gift.