Thursday, December 13, 2012

Spiral of Light

On December 2nd I attended a gathering at my daughter's school called the Spiral of Light, a celebration in preparation for the winter ahead of us. We all sat in a darkened room and an older student, dressed as an angel, entered with a candle. She walked into the center of a spiral that was created on the floor with evergreen garlands, and lit a candle in the center.  Then, she escorted each child, one by one, who carried a candle and walked into the spiral, lit their candle from the center candle and then walked out of the spiral, putting down the candle on the outer rim..until the entire outer rim of the spiral was lit, creating a room full of light, beauty and wonder.

As I watched my daughter slowly enter the spiral I reflected on how she has her own path to walk, in the dark, without me.  As I saw her face lit with the candlight I realized she also has her own light to guide her way.  I remember being told by a good friend of mine that when our children are born, it is like they are attached to us with a rubber band. At first they are close to us, dependant on us for survival.  Then sometimes they will want to stretch apart from us and we will feel more distance from them. However, even as they stretch away and back again, we will always remain connected.

When I make belly bowls for pregnant women, I use the spiral because it reminds me of the center, the umbilical cord, that attachment we have to our children and the symolism of our lives as a journey from the center out into the world.  Not only will our children want and need to stretch away from us at times in their lives, we also need to give them the opportunity to grasp onto the nourishment and offerings that the world outside of our connection has to offer them.  This honors our children, allowing them to use their inner light, to strenghten their center and their core.   Even though I was a tad bit weepy at seeing my "little girl" walking her own path, I also felt solace in that there were other lights in the room, lights that could supply warmth and illuminations and life experiences that I alone could not provide for her.  When she came back to me, smiling and whispered "Mommy that was fun! I want to do it again" I knew that collectively, all of our lights together would get us through this winter.