We Can Be Light…


Hello friends,

Last night, I lit candles in the darkness. This morning, long before sunrise, I did the same. Out loud, I spoke these words, “May we forever be light for each other.” I repeated that phrase three times. A prayer. An incantation. A spell. A call for hope.

Today is the Solstice. For me, it is winter. For those in the southern hemisphere, summer. The ancients thought that on solstice, the sun stood still in the sky before changing direction. That is literally what solstice means. Sol sistere. Sun stands still.

There is a reason so many of us hang lights during the darkest months. Since moving further north just under nine years ago, the comprehension of this need has deepened. We need reminders that, in the midst of snow or rain, sun will come again to warm the land.

In times that feel darkest, we need reminders of light.

But here’s the thing: we need the dark. We need space to rest and regroup. Fields need to lay fallow. The animals and insects need to sleep.

And we need to remember that we humans are the ones who can kindle light. Ever since Prometheus stole fire from the Gods, Raven stole the sun, or our ancestors figured out how to set a bow to wood, or strike flint, we have made light.

We can make light now. We can make light for each other. We can offer up our hope, our creativity, and our love.

There's a solstice gift, from me to you, below.

Best wishes - Thorn


As a solstice gift, I made one of my Patreon stories public. It is a second chance gay romance set at this time of year in Gävle, Sweden at Yuletide: A Love That Will Not Burn

Paid subscribers, I hope to see you at our creativity sprints this morning!

T. Thorn Coyle

Read more from T. Thorn Coyle
Photo: an Amtrak train in a station, waiting to board

Hello friends, I took the train yesterday, from northern Oregon to the middle of Washington State, heading for a big reader conference called Lore and Luster, where I'll be selling books and meeting readers for two days. We crossed the Columbia River, and beheld the snow capped beauty of Mount Hood. We passed small old towns and countryside, brick buildings, and stands of trees. Four astronauts just made a broad circuit around the moon, sending home photos of astonishing beauty, and pictures...

Blooming redbud branches reaching toward utility wires

Hello friends, Whenever times feel overwhelming, and I’m not sure what to do about it, I return to the basics: prioritizing creativity, going for walks, and local mutual aid. Why? The world always needs more creativity, the healthier I am the better able I am to help, and mutual aid or community service offer tangible, immediate help. The other thing I think about is the importance of building networks, which is a simple thing we all do, every day, whether we realize it or not. Some of us...

Photo: pale cream magnolia buds rising toward grey skies

Hello friends, When was the last time you paused because something was so beautiful, you needed a moment? When was the last time you were emotionally moved by nature, a painting, a song, a film, a dance? And how often do you make space to welcome beauty in your life? “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” wrote Margaret Wolfe Hungerford. She was speaking of subjectivity. That each of us finds different things—objects, people, places—beautiful. But there’s more to it than simple taste or...