Let This Darkness Be
Sacred space for all that grieves
It is not the most wonderful time of year when so much has gone wrong. We are still a world at war where hate too often seems more powerful love.
Death has come into our lives. It may not even have been recently but it is at this time of year when it seems all should be wonderful that we are more aware of that sorrow. Something is missing. Something has been lost and our greatest fear is that it won’t ever get better. We would like to hope but hope feels lost in the violence and greed.
The whole world is waiting for something to shift. We are not alone in this horrible feeling but this grief is shared by many. We don’t know when it will change or even if it will change but we are poised in the hope that it will.
This might not describe your experience of this time of year. I’m glad for you but for others this most wonderful time of year is not wonderful and there is not enough space to name the pain and sorrow. This is for those tender hearts looking for some space for the feelings that are so hard to name and harder to share with those that insist on the bright side. This if for the grieving and heartbroken. This is for those that desperately want to hope but aren’t sure what to hope for anymore.
You will need 25 minutes for this mediation as well as a candle, matches, paper and pen or a journal if you prefer. Though you might need to use the time you have, it is recommended to share this meditation in a darkened room after dusk.
With the light of the candle burning beside you, listen to this poem.
You might choose to seal this letter in an envelope and mail it to offer strength to those who know grief so well. Or it might be something you tuck in a safe place to remember how you clang like a bell with love and strength.
Close this meditation by listening to this song. When it ends, extinguish the candle and watch the smoke mingle with the mystery of change.
That poem reminds me of the pots and pans we banged on in appreciation for the helpers in the midst of the pandemic. It makes me want to ring bells in the darkest of the night and listen the echo of other bells just so we might remember that we are not alone in our grief. If you’re interested to listen to the whole episode from OnBeing from which the poem emerges, you can find it here.
If you are looking for others to share in your grief and you can’t find a longest night service that works for you, I offer this liturgy to share with friends and loved ones around a fire pit. I would recommend skipping the procession and sitting outside on the earth to feel the connection to all that wonder. I hope and pray you find the space you need this year for your grief and sorrow.
If you found this meditation meaningful, I hope you’ll share it with someone who might need the strength right now. It truly helps to know we are not alone in our grief.