As the nights get longer and longer as Winter Solstice approaches, I notice the magick of the liminal. The pause before the next.
The sinking into questions and how my fingers trace December days to find the hope of the dawn.
I know there is hope. And I feel the truth of desire.
I call to the light. I call to the new day. I call to potential and the wheel as it turns.
A Simple Spell for Solstice
A beloved of mine gives candles as Solstice presents each year, carefully wrapped in paper and a card of blessings in the wintertime. Over a decade, I have received candles from other loved ones and there are spells that sit on my altars.
Candles from initiations and classes.
Candles from secret spells.
Candles from out loud spells.
I have plenty of light, if only I remember.
So I take the candles out. As many as seem fit.
I take out the spells that haven’t quite wrapped up or need tending. I place all of the candles in their various stages of illumination.
And I light them all in the dark of the house.
I light them one by one and ask them to grow.
I keep a vigil (as much as possible) to witness the burning. I make prayers and offerings and feel the warmth of magick fresh and magick ongoing.
The light grows over the hours. Some candles will drown in wax.
Some candles will need extra tending and wick trimming.
But I light them all. And I leave the artificial lights off.
Until they are out.
I clear the space. I thank. I remember.
No matter where you are or what you feel in these days. Whether you are filled with joy in the shadow or sing loudly for the returning light, let all the candles in the house of your heart burn brightly.
Let the spell of your being fill the places that forget.
Let the spell of your growing turn from promise to reality.
Let the light grow inside and outside.
And even as the candles complete their work and fold back into dark, may you remember the burning.
The fuel of your intention — spoken and not.
Light all the candles of your heart.
And remember, no one can hold back your dawn.