It is getting darker earlier now.
We are swiftly approaching the shortest day of the year.
Sometimes we feel uncertain whether or not the light will return to us,
And restore our hope that the darkness is temporary,
And that the balance will be restored.
That uncertainty can be crippling;
It makes you want to sleep and sleep and sleep,
And cry and cry and cry,
And blame the world,
Everyone but ourselves,
For our deepest wounds and miseries.
That’s why when it is the darkest it has ever been,
Inside and outside of ourselves,
We must create our own light,
And stop being such little cry-baby bitches.
Weave, splash, write, paint your own light…
Or die trying.
This one’s called “Festival of Light”… because that is just what we need to light up our darknesses.