A poem for the darkest night of the year

Tomorrow night marks the Winter Solstice, the longest, darkest night of the year, and the beginning of winter. It is also the rebirth of the sun, when the light will slowly begin to build again. In us there are seasons, times of light and dark. It is the depths of our darkness that let us experience the true fullness of our light.

In December, 2010 I was in a very dark place, probably the worst depression I had ever experienced. There were days I could barely get out of bed. I was not sleeping more than 3 or 4 hours a night. I lost 20 pounds. There were many people who supported me during that time, who made space for me and kept me alive with their love, and I am still here because of them.

A turning point in that journey was when my dear friend Kate brought me to a Hanukkah party, where I lit the menorah and danced and spun like a dreidel. Spinning, and whirling, I became my own light. At the end of the night, I could feel something lifting, and I heard an inner voice say, "You're going to be OK." I listened and trusted that voice. I was not out of the woods yet, but I could see the clearing.

Today I wanted to share a poem written about that time, about being called back from the depths. It’s called “Miracle”.  Here is an excerpt:


And now I recall being in the choke

of a fog I did not have a name for

and didn’t think I’d survive. I could try

to describe it for you now: the nights

I woke with my pulse pounding through,

the heaviness of each breath,

how the effort of being inside my body

felt like burning —

It is being published today by Split this Rock, an organization committed to revitalizing poetry as a living, breathing art form with profound relevance in our daily lives and struggles, and you can read the full poem HERE.

I am sharing this poem to honor the darkness and light that lives in me, and lives in you. I am also sharing it because one of the gifts that having a consistent creative practice has given me is the ability to alchemize my raw emotions and experiences into artistic expression. It is how I survive. It is also a space that I hold for others.