The soft light of a low sun pushes through an icy winter morning, enfolding everything in a kindness that brings tears to one’s eyes. As I walk, the sun whispers to me about the wholeness of all things and gently requests that I pass the message on.
I am asked to remind you that beneath and before all the seeming broken bits and weeping wounds of the past, there is a wholeness that has never been touched. This wholeness does not ask you to overlook your pain or pretend that what you have lived is not real. It asks instead to be held alongside, a sweet and supportive paradox for your path. To know that in the midst of despair, a window can open to a beauty more intense and intimate than you have ever known.
Sunlight in winter is such a gentle and generous thing, isn’t it? Casting love on everything it touches. As we approach another year’s end and stand on the threshold of new beginnings, we can learn from the soft light of winter about how to best be with ourselves: gentle and generous and loving. When we remember our inherent wholeness, it is the natural way to be.
Love and courage,