We survive the cold by sharing the light
We survive the cold by sharing the light.
Walk the Path, Turn the Wheel, and Find the Village
Tonight marks the Winter Solstice – the shortest day and the longest night of the year. For most, it’s just a date on the calendar. For those of us walking The MovingStill Path, it’s a profound metaphor for the re-entry journey.
The Stillness of Winter:
In the depths of winter, nature doesn’t panic. It enters a mandatory stillness. Beneath the frozen surface, roots are grounding, the earth is preparing, and the wheel is turning. This is the wisdom of the Solstice: the moment of maximum darkness is also the exact moment the light begins its return.
Re-entry often feels like this – a long, cold night heavy with systemic barriers and community sanctions. But the Solstice whispers: “Don’t rush the dawn.” Stillness is not failure; it’s preparation.
The Turning of the Wheel:
The word “Yule” comes from the Old Germanic “Jól,” meaning “Wheel.” My ancestors saw the sun as a great wheel rolling across the sky. On the Solstice, that wheel reaches the bottom of its track and appears to stand still – the literal meaning of Sol-stice. For three days, the sun pauses before beginning its climb back toward the light.
This is the ultimate Zen Stoic paradox: the darkest moment is the pivot point. In the ancient forests, winter wasn’t wasted time – it was sacred. The frost killed what no longer served the tribe, clearing the way for new life.
Mothers’ Night and the Common Light:
The cycle began with “Mōdraniht” (Mothers’ Night) – a night to honor maternal ancestors and the protection of home. That love is like an evergreen: it stays green through the bitterest frost. Even in the “Great Dark” of incarceration, when the world turns its back, there is almost always a mother’s love that refuses to go out. That flame often keeps a person alive until they can find their way home.
Across traditions, this truth repeats:
- The Advent candle waiting for the “Light of the World.”
- The Hanukkah Menorah burning against the night.
- The Bodhi lights shining in quiet meditation.
Different fires, same story: “rebirth in the dark.”
The Village – Radical Inclusivity:
In the old longhouses, the village gathered around a single fire for a Sacred Pause – sharing stories, analyzing mistakes, recalibrating. Today, our village is wider. Whether you light a candle for Hanukkah, gather for the Yule log, find peace in the Masjid, or seek solace in the Cathedral, the frost doesn’t care what you believe – it only cares if you have a village to keep you warm.
On The MovingStill Path we are shield-brothers and sisters, peer advocates, helping one another navigate bureaucratic frosts, societal barriers, and the heavy stigma of the past. No one walks through the woods alone.
MovingStill Path:
The Stillness: Acknowledge the dark. Don’t rush the dawn. Let the Great Night refine your purpose.
The Movement: Tomorrow, the days grow longer. Every extra minute of light is an opportunity to take a step forward. The first turn of the wheel is an internal decision.
The Village: We survive the cold by sharing the light. Inclusivity isn’t optional – it’s survival. Because we don’t thrive in isolation.
If you’re in your longest night…
Look for the candles on the evergreens. We are here.
The wheel has turned. The light is returning.
The movement begins now.
I am MovingStill
……Are you?
#iammovingstill #reentry #postincarcerationsyndrome #healing #secondchances
The Winter Solstice, marking the longest night and shortest day of the year, carries deep symbolic meaning that transcends cultures and traditions. This pivotal moment, described as the turning of the great sun wheel, represents not only an astronomical event but also a powerful metaphor for personal and communal transformation. In times of darkness—whether literal winter or metaphorical challenges like re-entry after incarceration—the stillness is not a sign of defeat but a sacred preparation for new beginnings. Central to this journey is the concept of sharing light, which illuminates the path forward in the coldest and darkest times. The imagery of candles burning on evergreens, as noted in the tradition of Mothers’ Night or Mōdraniht, symbolizes unwavering maternal love and protection that sustains those facing isolation and hardship. Across faiths and cultures, from the Advent candle and Hanukkah Menorah to Bodhi lights in meditation, the recurring theme is clear: light in darkness signifies hope, rebirth, and connection. A key takeaway is the importance of community—the village—as a source of strength and healing. The practice of gathering around a communal fire, sharing stories, reflecting, and recalibrating offers a model for modern support networks, especially for those navigating systemic barriers and societal stigma. Radical inclusivity is framed not just as a noble ideal but as a survival mechanism; warmth and acceptance from a community enable individuals to move forward and thrive. The MovingStill Path, as presented, invites individuals to acknowledge the stillness and darkness without rushing toward the light prematurely. This mindful acceptance allows for inner work and purpose refinement. Once the wheel turns and the days grow longer, each additional minute of light represents an opportunity for progress and healing. This gradual movement embodies a Zen-like stoic paradox where the darkest moment is the pivot point toward growth. For those experiencing their own 'longest night,' the message is clear: look for the light—small, steady flames like candles on evergreens or the enduring love within a community. These lights remind us that no one walks alone. Whether you identify with the MovingStill community or others seeking second chances, post-incarceration healing, or simply human connection in hardship, embracing shared light and inclusivity can guide you toward renewal. The wheel has turned; the light is returning. Now is the time to step forward on the path.
