The Light in Me, The Light in You
The Light in Me, The Light in You
With the Winter Solstice just six days away, we stand at a threshold—a time when the longest night meets the turning toward light. As the world quiets in these final days of darkness, I can’t help but feel how divine and universal this moment is. It’s a time to learn all we can, leverage all we can, and love all we can—with and in the absence of light.
The darkness is our teacher. The light is our healer. And we are both.
I feel this is exactly what the human experience is about: mastering life’s lessons by recognizing that every hole, every hurt, offers a portal closer to our light, our essence, our Divinity, and Consciousness. Perhaps it’s through our deepest pain that we come home to what is Holy.
In my experience, it was the bleakest darkness that finally illuminated the light. As though the shadows themselves opened a doorway. The very breaking of my heart, the punches to my gut, the shattering of structures I thought would hold me—these became pathways inward, where I found the sanctuary of my own being.
The Solstice reminds us: what if the cracks, the holes, the losses, are not curses but invitations? What if the very things that broke us open also called us back to the light within? To the sanctuary in me and in you? And if more of us were willing to sit with the darkness, to dive into our depths, we might discover the richness and resources waiting there—the truest reflections of ourselves.
But let me be clear: I don’t seek to justify suffering—my own or anyone else’s. I won’t bypass the real and raw pain we endure, nor condone the conflicts we face as a collective. The harm we inflict on ourselves and others must be acknowledged, addressed, and changed. Yet, just as our light is shared, so too is our darkness. If I neglect or abandon what’s within me, it doesn’t vanish; it lives on in the collective, just as our shared light does.
To hold it all—the holey and the Holy—is perhaps the great invitation of this season.
Perhaps our spirits signed up for this experience, knowing there was great love to find, great light to free. Perhaps the wounds and the wisdom, the harm and the healing, are all part of remembering who we truly are. The hate we allow, the violence we witness, the patterns that wound—all of it creates holes. And perhaps those holes are here to help us finally and fully see.
The light in you. The light in me.
It’s not hard to find the harm, both outside us and within. It presses on our hearts, begging us to turn away from the light. Fear will do everything it can to distract us—from pausing, from seeing, from letting the light shine fully. Because to truly see the light means we must be accountable.
Marianne Williamson said it best: It isn’t our darkness that scares us—it’s our light.
Our light demands we reckon with ourselves. It asks us to repair the ways we’ve denied our light and demonized our darkness. It asks us to surrender power over and power under and remember, again and again, that the same light in me, in all its imperfection, is in you.
And so, as the Solstice draws near, we are reminded of the sacred rhythm of this season—a time to pause, to witness the longest night, and to sit tenderly with the lessons it offers. Darkness is not here to defeat us; it is here to deepen us, inviting us to remember the light we carry within.
This moment is a bridge: from absence to presence, from contraction to expansion, from what we’ve endured to what we’re ready to embrace. The Solstice teaches us that the light will always return—but it asks us, too, to honor the journey through the shadows that shape us and make space for our radiance.
May we use this sacred time to learn all we can, to leverage the wisdom of our wounds, and to love fully—with and without the light. May the cracks and holes in our hearts remind us not of what we’ve lost, but of how we are opening, how we are softening, how we are becoming.
The light in me, the light in you—it is waiting, quietly, for our willingness to see it. As the days grow longer and the light begins its slow return, may we rise with it. May we move forward together, holding space for one another’s humanity, and illuminating the world not with perfection, but with presence.
So hum—I am you, you are me.
Together, we are both the holey and the Holy.
May this Solstice lead us home.
The Path Through Darkness
In my life, the darkest moments have been my greatest teachers. They brought me low—so low I could no longer avoid what was real. The losses, the gut-wrenching moments of grief, the structures of my life breaking apart—they stripped me bare. And yet, they opened a portal.
It wasn’t the darkness itself that saved me. It was the light I discovered inside it. The breaking opened me to my essence. The very thing I thought would destroy me became the path that called me home.
What if this is the invitation for all of us? To allow the things that broke us to become the places where we remember who we are. To see the wounds not as voids but as spaces where the holy resides, waiting to be revealed.
The world often makes this hard to hold. There is so much harm and disconnection—so much designed to keep us separate from our truth. But even amidst the cruelty and chaos, the light is there, flickering, alive, eternal.
This is what the solstice offers us: a sacred pause in the longest night, a chance to rest and reckon with what has hurt us and what has healed us. To listen deeply to the lessons that darkness has to teach and to trust that, like the earth herself, we are always turning back toward the light.
A Solstice Practice: Rest in the Light of Being
In these six days leading up to and through the solstice, I invite you to create space for rest, reflection, and restoration. Let the darkness be a cocoon—an offering of stillness and safety to hold your transformation.
A Restorative Yoga Practice
Make space daily for rest and ease. Let go of the expectations and excuses as you gather what you need to create and support this space for you: blankets, pillows, bolsters, or anything that allows you to feel fully supported. Choose a space where you can lie down or recline in comfort and allow yourself to practice rest and know ease…
Create your space and Settle In: Restorative Yoga is the practice of letting our bodies rest, so this is an invitation for just that. Take a few deep breaths and tune inward, asking and listening for what it is your body is needing and wanting for rest. You could lay on your back, belly, or side, using pillows and blankets to make a resting nest of sorts for you. You could also lay on a bed or chair, or bring your legs up a wall, this is really about finding a space and shape to support your comfort. Once settled in, allow yourself to bring some awareness to your breath.
Breathe with the Mantra “So Hum”:
Inhale deeply and silently say “So” (I am).
Exhale slowly and silently say “Hum” (That).
Let this mantra carry you into a space of ease and connection, repeating it as you breathe.Rest in Stillness: Stay here for as long as you need, letting your body soften into the support beneath you. Notice how, as the body rests, the mind follows, and together they can help support you knowing and experiencing peace - samadhi.
The mantra "So Hum" is a simple yet profound mantra meaning "I am That," a reminder of our connection to the infinite, the divine, and the essence of life itself. It mirrors the natural rhythm of the breath—"So" on the inhale, "Hum" on the exhale—inviting calm, clarity, and presence. This mantra dissolves the illusion of separateness, affirming our wholeness and belonging while soothing the mind and opening the heart. As a practice, it fosters self-awareness, compassion, and a sense of unity with all that is, offering a grounding and healing reminder that we are not alone but deeply connected to the sacred flow of existence.
Reflection: Journaling with the Light
When you feel ready, take some time to journal. Let these prompts guide your reflection and trust any flow of truth - even if outside the lines:
What lessons has the darkness revealed to me this year?
Where have I felt cracks or openings in my life? What light has come through?
How can I honor rest and stillness as part of my own transformation?
What does it mean to hold both the holey and the holy within me?
What does it mean to hold both the holey and holy within all?
A Solstice Prayer
Dear Divine,
Thank you for the darkness.
Thank you for the Light.
Thank you for the Love that flows steady, even as all else transforms.
Thank you for the wounds and the cracks that guide us home to who we truly are—whole, holy, loved.
As the Solstice draws near, and the light begins to release its grasp,
And the darkness opens its arms wider,
May we honor the sacredness in all of it.
How the dark reveals the light in new ways, showing us paths we hadn’t yet seen.
And how in letting go, we make room for something greater to emerge.
May we recognize the wisdom in this time of rest, renewal, and reflection.
The light will always return, as it always has.
And we, too, must return—again and again—
To the truth of who we are.
To the love we are made of.
To the freedom we are here to live.
The cracks, the breaks, the holes—they are not the end.
They are the beginning.
No darkness is a tomb, but a womb,
A place where everything broken can be reborn.
May we remember:
The courage we carry.
The love we embody.
So hum. So hum.
I am you. You are me.
Together, we are whole.
Together, we are light.
May the light in me,
The darkness in me,
The light in you,
And the darkness in you,
Guide us forward—
Toward healing. Toward wholeness.
Toward love.
And the liberation of all we are meant to be.
Solstice blessings to all—
May the darkest night bring us the brightest wisdom,
And may we emerge, together, into the light we were always meant to share and shine.
PS: If you can, please tap the ❤️ at the top or bottom. It lets me know you were here, that my words may have been of benefit, and allows others to find my work and words- Thank you! ❤️
Thank you for this! Winter Solstice is one of my favorite days of the year with its invitation to be still and stand in the sacred. I will be incorporating your practices in my day - thank you!