Through Stained Glass: A Guest Post-The Gravity of Darkness

Today's guest post is by artist, writer, healer, and co-director of The Center for Creativity & Community, Laura Elliott. Combining her experience in art and healing, Laura facilitates expressive art workshops, along with other wellness workshops that integrate the healing power of sound and the balancing movements of qigong. You can find out more about Laura by visiting her website. 

The Gravity of Darkness

I welcome the darkening nights of fall into winter. 

That gradual gathering of the long full skirt of darkness, 

faithfully orchestrated by earth’s dance with sun, 

the diminishing of light and warmth 

that makes me want to snuggle in and slow down, 

sigh away the demands of sunnier days, 

and allow the restless fragments of my life

 to coalesce into remembrance.

And so, I fall

into the gravity of darkness

that calls me ever more deeply 

into oneness with God.

______

This wintry retreat into darkness that leads to new light is, for me, a time to pause and align with the rhythms of the earth and allow the stillness of the season to take me ever more deeply into Oneness. This ancient dance of nature can be challenging to follow in a world that promotes the jolly and harried buzz of a commercialized Christmas. A far cry from the ways of those that lived or may still live close to the earth.  

Many years ago, I was commissioned to create imagery for a calendar. The theme was to relate the senses of the seasons to the senses of the soul. As one of three artists, I was assigned four months, one from each season. For winter, I created a mandala-like image with four barren trees, their roots converging into a central swirling sun-like image. Not until after I painted it, did I realize the deeper meaning. I somehow became aware that trees grow their roots in the winter. I had never wondered when trees grow their roots. But I delighted in this discovery and marveled at its metaphor. I saw that, like trees, we too grow our roots in the wintry seasons of our lives. Those seasons that make us journey deeper to the sun that is always pulsing within, nourishing our existence, and strengthening us to stand more strongly in the world. 

  I particularly love the wisdom of trees. Their wintry pause from the world takes them into the root of their existence, where unbeknownst, a quiet deepening is going on, in preparation for the new growth of spring. Winter can arrive in our lives at any time throughout the year. Yet, I am grateful for the one that nature provides, taking me into the darkness to remember ever more deeply the light of God within.

Laura Elliott