candlelight oracle & plant potions for dark days
wax readings, flame alchemy & a recipe from the heart cave {stinging nettle hot chocolate}
let yourself descend
and rest now
deep in the heart of Earth,
below the starry dangling roots of trees
where the Stone Mother lives.
there is something that happens
here in the soft hues of dusk light
something like a quartz mist,
the same ethereal windbreath
as your dreams.
something of a radiant origin,
held safe and timeless
in hidden micaceous caverns
of your heart’s potentiality.
how can darkness be woven
from filaments of light?
how can the sea of your dreams
have no end?
what is it that makes you
capable of loving
beyond death, beyond all sense,
beyond the cool pearl moon’s
passing time
here in the heart cave
we bravely tend the fire
of our wretched, luminous lament
that is kindled entirely
from the invincible force of love
we were born from.
Hello dear friends across time and space,
Here we find ourselves again, bravely walking into the dark heart of winter. I am writing this from the desk in my studio, which faces a window into a thick juniper and piñon forest. There are songbirds everywhere, their voices so bright I can hear them through the glass. In this forest, there is an abundance of light and life force in an otherwise cold and dark cycle of the world.
I hang feeders from the trees in winter, and fill them with organic sunflower seeds. To offer the birds seeds in the heart of darkness is to offer the alchemical emblem of the fire element, of warmth and memory. Of the ancient stories of starlight and resurrection that seeds have always carried. Every single seed contains the dream of the entire Earth.
Oh, all these visitations from our old dreamtime friends— the darkness, candlelight, woodsmoke, tea, evergreens, rainbow snow sparkles, and the songbirds who journey here from the distant north. In the fall, just after the hummingbirds depart on their long travels south, just as my heart is breaking from that autumnal farewell, the forest comes to life with new arrivals on the wind. Suddenly, the treetops become fluttering worlds of song and stories from afar. I love that this snowy high desert forest is a winter sanctuary for winged ones from the far north. I wait for their return, and love being part of their family. Or rather, I love considering them part of mine.
Songbirds, candlelight, darkness, woodsmoke, clear winter starlight. These all feel like family to me, a kindred gathering of messengers from the rich, imaginal heart of Gaia. Who are your winter companions, the north stars guiding you through the darkest of days? More than ever, we must invite them to walk with us. I have said this many times and will continue repeating it forever: Humans were never meant to do this alone. We are here to ask for help, particularly from the ones who appear to be the most different from us. Perhaps even the ones who are entirely invisible. Our belonging has forever been braided into our engagement with the wild and unseen Others. And as Rumi says, “If you want to be held, hold out your hands.” In this tender heart of darkness, both in the Earth’s cycles as well as in the current unraveling of the human heart, I have some small offerings to place in your outstretched palms. Here are some tiny, glinting treasures for the dark days we find ourselves slowly, gently, inevitably sinking into. And for all the mystery yet to find us.
the candlelight oracle: flame alchemy & the practice of reading candle wax
I should begin by mentioning that I am madly in love with beeswax candles. To me, they are direct agents of soul, and they are my friends. I burn them daily, I dip them by hand, I spend days on end without using any electric lights, whatever it takes for my life to be illuminated by these nectar-scented golden guides. But beeswax is a luminous substance entirely unto itself. For this sharing, my focus is on candlelight and wax of any kind. Long before my soulful infatuation with beeswax took hold, I had already been introduced to something called “candle practice” by a beloved teacher. And my life was forever transformed by it. What I will share with you now is a very special ritual that can be practiced and enacted in addition to simply filling your evenings and early mornings with candlelight.
Years ago, I traveled to Ecuador to study with a wise elder named Rocío. I was in the early stages of what would prove to be a nearly decade long “dark night of the soul,” and in a manner that only soul could orchestrate, I ended up on a strange and mystical journey straight into the heart of the Earth… to the Equator itself.
The plane landed in the middle of the night, at 3 am, and I was brought by taxi to a nunnery in the outskirts of Quito. Even in the darkness, through the cold stone walls of the convent, I knew there were flowers everywhere. The next morning at the breakfast table, Rocío told us that later that day we would be learning how to work with candles for healing. I began to feel strange. The nuns floated through the halls, murmuring in Spanish and laughing softly with each other. Birds sang endlessly through windows that never closed. I felt high, dazed, surely in a dream. I had entered another world entirely. And it was a world where absolutely everything was sacred.
In the afternoon, we gathered in the cloisters in the convent garden, each of us with a small ceramic dish Rocío had asked us to bring from home. It was a particularly mysterious item from the packing list she had sent. We sat in a circle amongst peculiar flowers and mossy stone walls, and our teacher began to speak to us in her hushed and solemn way. When Rocío speaks, even in casual conversation, it always feels as though she is divulging a holy and ancient secret. She is a wellspring of wisdom passed down to her through lineages of grandmothers, and I always find myself leaning in close. As she began to share about the practice of healing with candlelight, clutching a single white candle in her hand, my eyes grew wide and teary. Rocío’s sincerity permeated my bones. Suddenly I felt like the luckiest person alive, realizing I was receiving a teaching I would carry with me forever.