The space was filled with silence so powerful, I could feel the building breathing. As I breathed with the rhythm of the energy coursing around me, I felt my cells sparkling and exhaling along with me. I was part of and surrounded by a ring of women who had joined there with a common intention: to celebrate the growing Light.
The invitation read:
join us and give yourself the gift of QUIETLY CELEBRATING
~ a personal night of nurturing your inner light
~ the first day of a new age for humanity
~ the darkest time of the year
~ the milestone of our 10th anniversary and the awesome energy we’ve created
During the time of year when we naturally want to go in (yin), but end up being even more active because of the holidays, this is a chance to gift yourself a tranquil, quiet evening to slow down and savor peaceful, inner space.
After receiving the invitation, I spent a lot of energy vacillating between “yes” and “no.” For a long time, my answer was a solid “yes!” and then the usual “Oh but then I’ll have to drive into town… spend money on gas… spend money on appreciation of the space… yada… yada… YADA!” So I gave myself permission to not decide until the day had come and it would be time to prepare myself to leave.
On the weekends, I tend to nestle into myself, especially on holiday breaks that have no homework requirements. And so, yesterday, as the time approached I kept ignoring the pull toward Salt Lake – the pull of the growing Light. I had told my daughter about it because one of her best friends would be there, but she was also nestled into her self, cuddled under a blanket on the couch and far from willing to do anything other than that.
Then she got a text from her bestie wondering if we would be at the event. Kait nudged me. “Mom, are we going tonight?”
I glanced up from the personal project I was working on and noticed that we had only an 70 minutes before it started. My logical mind catalogued the condition of our readiness and wanted to respond, “no,” but I opened my mouth to speak and said, “We’ll need to leave in 40 minutes and we’ll need to eat dinner and get ready in that amount of time. I can do it. Can you?”
She grinned. “Yes.”
“Okay then. Let’s do it!”
I cried as I drove there and discovered in Circle that I was not the only one channeling the overflowing emotions of the night. There were fresh tears in the eyes of many and one who openly admitted she had cried for no reason on the way there. I felt my emotions bubbling and swirling so close to the surface and I could feel the emotions of the world, as well.
I have previously written about my intentions for the momentous dates we have recently passed. Due to these intentions, I’ve noticed an incredible shift. I’ve noticed that people seem to be seeing things differently, that they have opened up to the possibilities of all that is and that they are choosing to create from a place of empowerment.
All that was so strong at Circle last night. The intended silence of the space – the only sounds: music, our breath and the swishing of scarves and skirts – created a sacredness that supported going within and facilitated connecting with others only through eyes, hands, mirrored movement. All night long, as I danced, breathed, and focused, I felt tears spill over my lashes and gently roll down my cheeks. I felt the power of Light envelope me, fill me, flow through me, and change me. I felt myself expand and stretch, move and be still, ebb and flow.
As I flowed through the room, I took the opportunity three different times to light a Flame of Intention for what I wanted to create through the era of Growing Light: Faith, Trust, Love.
Trust burned steadily, gently and firmly. When the candle melted away, the flame danced until none of the wick was left. Then it slowly, dimmed and went out without much show, without a roaring bonfire like the others. Just a firm resolve.
When I lit the candle for Love, I lit it from the flame of a nearby candle, rather than the one big candle meant for lighting the smaller candle. As soon as I set the candle in its holder, it began to tip and nearly fell over. I righted it and pushed it more firmly into a hole that was suddenly too small for it. It leaned the other direction. I straightened it again and heard, “You have lit your candle not from the One, but from another’s.”
I stared at the candle as it subtly began to fall over again. With a smile, I picked it up and blew it out. After lighting it from the One, I placed it back in the holder. Lo and behold! It stood tall, still, and strong until the flame kissed the liquid wax and caught the holder – which was made of homemade salt dough – on fire. I watched the flames dance around the dough with mesmerizing steadiness, the pool of wax at its base feeding the flame. To protect the surface of the wooden platter the candles were upon, we moved the fiery bases atop other non-burning bases to get them out of the wax puddled all about. Doing this with my Love candle allowed it to burn for a long time. I danced around the room and came back as it was about to go out. The flames curled in upon themselves and sighed in the silence between songs, gently fading out.
Faith burned brightly and hot. When the wax evaporated, the holder caught fire and burned with blue-white flames that stood about eight inches tall. Inside the divot where the candle once stood, a white vortex of steam and smoke swirled exotically and entrancingly. I stared at it, wondering about the intensity of the flame, the persistence of the fire. The hostess floated by with a separate container for me to place my roaring fire in so that we could protect the sanctity of the building by not catching everything on fire.
Having my own Faith Flame in a separate container gave me the opportunity to hold it in my hands and observe it up close. I was able to sway and dance with it while I inhaled its energy. The flame burned strongly until the holder crumbled open into a pile of ashes, and still it burned. I danced with it and wondered about how long it would burn. I thought about blowing it out so I could rejoin the group and move freely to the drum beat filling the space. The response was a clear “no” to that idea so I just swayed and stared into the flame.
Then I heard, “Faith is in the movement. Faith is in the movement. Faith is in the movement.” And I saw spinning energy. I followed that energy… spinning like a dervish and staring at the flame in my hand. Suddenly, there was a burst of blue sparks and then blackness in the bowl I held. I stopped spinning and the silvery smoke slid up into the atmosphere, spreading out like a pair of open hands and disappeared in a blink.
Faith is in the movement and the Light is growing. I feel such gratitude.