the movement
honor ancestors, serve descendants, nourish all
How do you tend to your inner light?
In these shorter colder days that surround the winter solstice I notice I am looking for light. Is it the mental association of light and warmth that lures me? Maybe I’m magnetized to the mystery of a twinkling stary night sky. Whatever the appeal, I know I am not alone.
My mom is visiting from Hong Kong for the holidays. Her first day here she wanted to take a walk, “outside so my eyes can see the natural light.” My wise mama knows this helps to recover from jet lag.
My mom also loves trees. Thankfully my sister lives next to Rock Creek Park. We bundled up, headed out, and were greeted with cool crisp air, endless glorious forest, and the sweet slow light show of afternoon into dusk.
One of her first observations to me was how beautiful the bare branches of the trees were. She reminded me this is a special time of year when we get to see the intricate patterns of the branches and twigs against the sky.
When I walk with my mom, I walk slower than usual. When I walk at her pace I tend to look up and around more. On this particular walk, the gradual shift of the late day sun kissing the trees from the southern sky was a feast for the eyes. The lingering light on the upper tree limbs appeared delicate and fleeting, something easily missed; something to savor.
I’m a summer baby. I love hours on end in the sun and water. While a full-on celebration-de-la-sol pool party is my go-to jam, the winter walks with my mama are teaching me to relish the softer intensities of light.
Photo: first light in the woods of Shenandoah National Park.
We’ve been lucky for mostly clear days during my mom’s visit. Walking among the trees has been an easy family activity. Yesterday it was overcast, cooler, and drizzling. You guessed right, Mama Kao still wanted to “walk outside with the trees.” Our 82-year old’s desire inspired our crew into the drizzle. Wouldn’t you know it, the drizzle stopped as soon as we started our walk. A couple hours later, wellingtons muddied, lungs full of fresh air, complete with on and off trail shenanigans by kiddos of all ages, our crew returned renewed.
My mom uses variations on the phrase “we all keep going” as a way to encourage herself and others when we face challenges. I recognize that cheer in her desire to visit with the towering age-old trees in the forest even when it is cold and wet. She knows communing with nature keeps her inner light going.
The quiet of the woods during our winter walks prompts me to listen within, and in doing so, an understanding vibrates within me that we humans have the liberty to kindle our inner light regardless of external circumstance. Just as the trees maintain their root and rise, rain-or-shine, all of us can find a way to keep going. Perhaps nurturing our inner light is more crucial precisely when it is not convenient.
My mom is definitely on to something. Winter is a special time. Nature offers us an opportunity to turn inward and tend to our inner fire. What keeps your pilot light on? Movement keeps my inner light going. For me a simple practice of focusing on my breath sustains a spark. The interplay of breath and movement practices nourishes the flames. A daily dose of dynamism fuels the fire of creativity. The invitation is to stir the embers with breath and movement practices. Let us illuminate our way through winter from within for ourselves and for each other.
January 2024
