The Candle Still Burns: Honoring Our Inner Light This Solstice

I remember the first Winter of the pandemic like a haunting stillness.
The world was quiet. Heavy. Hurting.

In the thick of that darkness, I sat at my desk, heart cracked open, and painted a single candle. Just one flame . . . small, defiant, and alive.

I didn't realize it then, but that painting became a prayer. A whisper. A promise that the light still lived within me.

And it still does.

As we move into this week of the Winter Solstice, of Christmas, Kwanzaa, and the last days of Hanukkah, I find myself returning to the image of that candle. That sacred flame.

Across cultures, across centuries, this season calls us inward. . . to pause, to reflect, to return to what matters most.

And at the center of nearly every tradition?
Light.

Candles flicker on mantels and altars.
Twinkle lights line rooftops.
Bonfires blaze in celebration and remembrance.
Menorahs and kinara flames echo stories of hope, resilience, and belonging.

Whether literal or symbolic, light is the great gatherer.

It draws us together,

heart to heart,

soul to soul.

This morning my soul was lit by sitting side by side with my son and painting that same candle five years later on the Winter Solstice.

In the turning of the Earth, in the long night of the Solstice, something ancient stirs. 🌒✨
A cosmic rhythm reminds us: the light will return. And more than that . . .

It never really left.

Even in seasons of deep dark, the ember remains.
A pulse.
A presence.
A quiet invitation back to yourself.

I invite you to tend your own inner flame.

Not by doing more. Not by forcing gratitude or slapping on seasonal cheer.

But by softening into presence.

By asking:

• What helps me feel lit from within?

• Where do I notice sparks of joy, even if they’re faint?

• Who helps me remember who I am?

Our inner light isn’t about productivity or performance . . . it’s about aliveness.

And when we honor that within ourselves, we’re better able to see and celebrate the light in others.

I believe this matters more than ever right now.

In a world that can feel frayed and frantic, recognizing the light in one another is a radical act of love.

So however you celebrate this season . . .
With candles, with songs, with silence or storytelling . . .
May it be a homecoming.

To your body.
To your breath.
To your community.
To the quiet knowing that you, dear one, are light.

If you’ve ever doubted it, if the candle has flickered low . . .
know this:

The flame still burns.

It always has.

Come sit by it.
Warm your hands.
And let yourself remember.

✨

If you feel moved or inspired by this blog post I invite you to join the Creative You Wellness weekly newsletter called The Creative Spark. Each week you will find an invitation to a small personal practice that will spark your creativity and bring joy to your week. Click the link below.

Longing for more? On Wednesday, I’ll be sharing a printable Creative Spark inspired by this post and designed to gently guide you back to your light.

Join my email circle to receive it (and other soul-nourishing inspiration through the seasons).