Candlelight

I'm sitting in bed, laptop where it belongs - on my lap, space heater running, gazing at some burning candles. Three tall beeswax tapers sitting in a gorgeous purple glass candlestick holder. They're not dripping - I don't think they're dripless, but I put them in the freezer before burning (I heard it lengthens their burning time).

A year ago, I went down to visit a friend in Washington State. She was getting ready to move so I helped her sort, chuck and whittle down her possessions. She was far more ruthless than I am (at least with my own things) and reduced her possessions to a carful. I can still feel how light that is - how free, to be unencumbered by THINGS and by clutter, to travel only with those things that you love and use and need and choose to have around you.

It's getting colder and darker these days. While I don't like the cold, I love the magic of this time of year. I find myself turning more and more towards the home. It's a time for curling up, snuggling and reading, cooking and eating, cleaning and caring for the space you live in. And somehow, those candles represent it all for me. They are beautiful. Pure and natural. Soothing, comforting, nurturing. Those three candles, and their exquisite holder centre me here, in my room, in my home, in the life I'm living. I can't believe it's taken me an entire year to light them. But now I know, and they will continue to bring me joy and peace for the rest of this winter.