As I start to write this, on a glorious sunny day, I am about to go out for a run in the sunshine, to make the most of the limited hours of daylight up here at 58 degrees north.
Every day we benefit from sunrise (whether or not it is obscured by cloud; whether or not we are awake to see it), when the sun appears to be re-kindled.
Although in truth we know that Brother Sun continues to radiate light and heat, even while we are experiencing the darkness of night.
In a bid to honour the darkness of early November, as we approach the 102nd anniversary of Armistice (on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month), this week I want to showcase the vision and faith of my Cambridge friend Katrina Dring, who has generously agreed to share her beautiful poem – Three Candles – with you.
First, on the theme of lighting candles in the darkness, let’s do a BrainDump, involving letting the pencil release the warmth of your felt sense of connection, and reaching out onto the page of your ThoughtBook, without hesitation, without editing, without fear.
BrainDump on re-kindling
Today I want to re-kindle my felt sense of …
Today I am eager to re-kindle my felt sense of …
Today I am afraid of re-kindling my felt sense of …
Tomorrow I intend to re-kindle my sense of …
And repeat as required,
while gently noticing any tension that arises in your body, and
breathing into that tension to let it flow, let it go ~~~~
Now settle down comfortably, and read slowly the following poem Three Candles by my friend Katrina Dring, who is an anthropologist and writer (and expresses many other wonderful qualities).
Here is the fire in my belly,
the one which drives me on,
leads me to completion,
pushes towards dreams
and flutters with anticipation.
Here is the light from my soul,
my glorious uniqueness,
the force which attracts others
and reveals what I am yet to become
as well as all the things I already am.
And here is the flame of my heart,
the love which I hold and share,
the kindness which moves me,
the gentle nature and thoughtful moments,
warmth, compassion and empathy.
I light these three candle in prayer,
for myself and for the world
in the hope that they might shine
strong and bright and beautiful.
And that they might remind me when I forget.
Copyright © Katrina Dring September 2020
As ever, select an idea or phrase from earlier in the session, or use one of the following phrases. Write it in your ThoughtBook.
Without labouring thought, continue the phrase onwards, in a free flow of words or images, onto the waiting page. Your Golden ThreadWork can be short or long, or a series of any-length essays springing from several prompts. As much as you can, soothe your Inner Critic in the warm candlelight of experience.
In my childhood/ adulthood (you get to choose which) my sense of worth was re-kindled by/ when …
My sense of purpose in life might be re-kindled with the help of …
The torch to see me through the darkness of winter is already being rekindled by …
It is better to light a candle in the darkness than to …
“Mislaid flame of tender emotions
Together we live to the point of tears,
I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
― Scott Hastie
… and on his birthday cake, magic candles that re-ignited after being blown out …
~ for you to write your own, before mine
Today I am grateful for:
Today I’m grateful for:
~ the unexpected gift of a small fish that the tide dropped at my feet today;
~ the unexpected gift of another warm, sunny day, that called me outside instead of labouring over writing this blog post;
~ the healing warmth and light of the candles that we ignite for our friends, or strangers, or for ourselves, rekindling the spark within;
~ the safe recovery of my friend after a life-saving operation today.
At the website gratefulness.org, once you have registered your interest, you have access to many resources, including a place to light a virtual candle, which will continue to burn for 48 hours, with your dedication shareable with other pilgrims.
Go well until next week, and remember not to leave any lit candles unattended. And not to leave an unlit candle on top of a lit wood-burning stove.
Today I intend … not to make that mistake again.
No permanent damage done, just one fewer candle in the world, and a tiny limp wick left over. I was lucky not to have to use my fire blanket.