A Light In The Window
Holiday Sale & November 20% off Subscriber Sale in Progress.
Music…always Music
I was driving home late on a deep winter night. I was moved to see here and there lights shining in the dark. There is always a light in the dark. There is always a light in the window…shining for you.
“The Leonid meteors find familiar paths across the November skies year after year, reminding us that we are made of very old light. The trees are now bare, revealing above us the majestic river of pale, milky light that we call our home among the countless galaxies. Harvest times are followed by times of sowing into dark places. The seasons are an exercise in following the Deep Song that animates everything. We live spring when it blooms, plunge into summer when it burns the earth, bend with the slow yielding to autumn, and finally let go completely in winter. At supper time, it is already dark. Windows light the way home. It is time to return to the ancient wells of the sacred traditions, and also to draw nourishment from our dreams. - Marv and Nancy Hiles (From The Almanac of the Soul)
Many years ago, I was given a copy of The Almanac of the Soul by my friends Parker and Sharon Palmer. It has grown a little tattered at the edges and is filled with underlined phrases and notes in the margins. It’s a large spiral bound almanac and a bit heavy, and so it had to be a conscious decision to bring it on tour when everything I pack will ultimately have to be carried on my back or in my arms, will need to be rolled through airports and hauled up hotel stairs, will have to stowed in rental cars or stashed for a few hours in green rooms. Ya’all, this is folk music, we don’t fly in private jets, we see the world close up and we often carry our own shit. Traveling in such a manner, I’ve had to become ruthless about what I take with me. Only enough clothes and socks to get me through the tour. A lot of dark colors that don’t show stains. Extra strings and a guitar stand, a small zippered bag with travel sized sundries and things like moisturizer portioned in contact lens cases. A draw string bag with my altar items, sometimes a small travel sketch pad and watercolor set that can fit in my palm, or maybe a ball of yarn that can be tucked into a purse. Before I had a tablet, my daughter would make jokes about how I carried more books than socks - to which I would reply, “Poetry is sustenance, socks can be washed out in the sink”.
A traveler has to decide what is worth the weight and what needs to be left behind. I marvel at the baggage claim when I see people wrestling huge bags and wonder what is so important that it could not be left behind for just a few days. It makes me wonder, what am I carrying around in my heart that is too heavy for the kind of journey I’ve chosen to take in this life? What is necessary and what is not needed now?
In late autumn, it often feels to me like the world is packing for a tour. In November the world is paring down, we can more clearly see the contours of the hills littered with a million shades of beige. The trees are gloriously bare, revealing their strong and delicate bones, the intricate fractal shapes of trunk and branches. The golden autumn color of the light has taken on that clean blue scent winter. The abundance of summer is a memory, beds are prepared and we plant the things that by nature must winter over in the dark.
So this week, I’m thinking about paring down. It is time to plant seeds that will winter in the dark and emerge when the first light spring winds and warm days tap the earth saying “You’ve gathered what you needed in the quiet places, its alright to come out now.” Grieving is not over, but it’s time to lay down, or at least find a quiet place to store what is too heavy to keep hauling around every day.
I finally photocopied the entire hefty book so I could take it on my tablet. There is no ebook version. I still mark pages and underlines with an ipencil. The book is getting tattered, and because The Almanac is out of print, there will be no replacement. So I keep carrying the book and preserving the book at the same time. In that way, the spirit of that work is not lost. The ways we carry what we love is ever evolving. We figure out what we have to leave behind.
Hope lifts on the wind like the lightest of feathers. It can also feel like a beloved tattered book that we preserve and keep carrying in a new form. Hope grows like new plants in the spring. It also resides deep in the wintertime, gathering energy and presence in the dark….never gone, only sleeping like the soft creatures that surround themselves in insulation with a storehouse of grains gathered for the coldest days.
The stars remind us that we are small in an immense and unfolding story. The wheel of seasons remind us that what has always turned is turning still. The weight we carry can be put down when needed. In the dark months, there is a light in the window leading us home - ever faithful, ever shining.
Practice
Close your eyes and breathe deeply for a few moments. Imagine what has felt heavy upon your shoulders in the passing days or weeks.
Breathe love and compassion into your hardworking shoulders.
Breathe out letting go, lifting your shoulders, rolling them a bit.
Breathe in the image of lifting off your shoulders what is heavy, like taking off an old coat you no longer need.
Breathe out hanging up the coat, knowing it is there but choosing to leave it at the door for awhile as you go about your day.
Breathe, look around, enjoy the feeling of paring down…. Breathe….
Question
What did it feel like to do the Practice above? Are there texts that you preserve at home and carry with you at the same time? Is there a phrase you carry and say to yourself for encouragement or grounding or clarity? What is that phrase? What is something you think of as a Light in the Window in your life?
Final Week of General 20% Supporting Subscriber Sale. A Holiday Gift Of Music, Poetry, Community & Conversation - Group & Gift Subscriptions 20% off.
Do you have someone in your life you’d like to give a gift during this season, maybe someone who has all the “things” they need. How about a subscription the The Gathering of Spirits Community. Share with your friends or family the conversations, essays, poetry, music and special offerings as a gift that lasts all year long. AND as always my deep gratitude to everyone who supports this ongoing project. It is YOUR support that makes it possible!
Holiday Online Sale Until Dec 7th!
Coupon Code HOLIDAY20 for 20% off everything on my Online Store.
Three Gratitudes Every night before I go to sleep I say out loud Three things that I am grateful for, All the significant, insignificant Extraordinary, ordinary stuff of my life. It’s a small practice and humble, And yet, I find I sleep better Holding what lightens and softens my life Ever so briefly at the end of the day. Sunlight and blueberries, Good dogs and wool socks, A fine rain, A good friend, Fresh basil and wild phlox, My father’s good health, My daughter’s new job, The song that always makes me cry, Always at the same part, No matter how many times I hear it. Decent coffee at the airport, And your quiet breathing, The story she told me, The frost patterns on the window, English horns and banjos, Wood Thrush and June bugs, The smooth glassy calm of the morning pond, An old coat, A new poem, My library card, And that my car keeps running Despite all the miles. And after three things, More often than not, I get on a roll and just keep on going, I keep naming and listing, Until I lie grinning, Blankets pulled up to my chin, Awash with wonder At the sweetness of it all. by Carrie Newcomer (From A Permeable Life: Poems, Essays & Lyrics)
"A traveler has to decide what is worth the weight and what needs to be left behind." (Your words, and oh so true)
I really relate to this statement! *Literally as well as figuratively*
I loved all of the metaphors related to paring down and taking along just what is needed when travelling... So true. So true.
I have 2 phrases I look at every single day...It has been somewhat of a ritual for me over the past 20 some years.
They are as follows.... *This one sits near my coffee spot:
"Whatever you do may seem insignificant, but it is most important that you do it." (Gandhi)
The other phrase is typed on a very old brownish tinted piece of notebook paper at my desk, right next to my laptop. It says:
"Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdites no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; Begin it well and serenity and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense." (Emerson)
Thank you, thank you, thank you with all my heart. This is a balm and sustenance as we go deep into the darker days, rest and rejuvenate, waiting for the light and the important work ahead.