Various ducks on the wetland at Curtain Pole Road, Chattanooga, Tennessee. I particularly like how they appear in puddles of light on the water. December 2022 by Ray Zimmerman.
This story began in my journal. I went down several Rabbit Holes as I explored the midwinter holidays and the significance of light in each. I also spoke of lunar and solar calendars and the Julian vs. the Gregorian calendar. Here is a more succinct version.
I recently learned that St. Lucy’s Day is celebrated on December 13th, which was once the day of the Winter Solstice. Thanks to the Gregorian calendar, the Solstice is now later in December but the Saint Lucy’s Day remains on December 13.
Unfortunately, she has been removed from the Solstice, a celebration of light returning with lengthening days. Her name means light and she is believed to have worn a wreath of candles on her head to light her way. This left her hands free to carry food to persecuted people.
I attended two celebrations of the Winter Solstice this year and the return of the light was prominent in each. At one, we celebrated with stories and poems about this return, but at the other, we celebrated by walking a labyrinth.
The Labyrinth is a walking meditation. One must follow the correct path to reach the center and return to the entrance. It has a long history as a spiritual practice in several faiths ranging from Christian to Pagan.
I first walked a labyrinth at the Scarritt-Bennett Conference Center in Nashville and composed the poem at the end of this story while staying there to attend the yearly Southern Festival of Books. I read from a chapbook at one of the festival sessions. While there, I composed the poem at the end of this story.
Since then, I have walked labyrinths at several locations, primarily Churches. I know of two labyrinths in Chattanooga, but there are likely more.
The Labyrinth I walked on Saturday, December 21, was a temporary structure, laid out with tape on a large cloth. The lights were off in the room but candles illuminated the path. I remembered the song “Walk in the Light,” which I learned while studying at a Quaker college years ago.
Having finished that labyrinth, I walked an outdoor Labyrinth and visited a Yule Log fire. I observed a tradition by writing a prayer on a slip of paper which I fed into the fire so that it would ascend with the smoke.
I returned to the indoor area and found pages with reproductions of Labyrinths that one could navigate with a pen. There was even a butterfly with a labyrinth on each wing. There was a small labyrinth carved into a wooden square. I traced that one with my finger.
As I left the church that hosted this event, I noticed some words prominently displayed on the front window. A variant appears on their website, “…we acknowledge that our church sits on Cherokee, Mvskoke, and Yuchi Land.” Now that is a place-based faith.
With the arrival of Christmas, I am reminded that many holidays bring a celebration of light at this time. Advent candles are lit at churches on Sunday and many churches hold Candlelight Christmas Eve services.
This year, the beginning of Hanukkah, The Festival of Lights, coincides with Christmas Day. That is not always the case since Hanukkah is set by a lunar calendar. Hanukkah has no connection to Christmas and its celebration is nothing like Christmas. But it is noteworthy that lights are important to the holiday.
Whatever tradition you celebrate at this time of year, may you walk in the light.
Walking the Labyrinth
October 2013
The path of the soul is not linear.
It spirals like the turns of this maze,
outlined with bricks on their sides.
Like time, it circles back,
passes by starting points.
I turn left, one hundred eighty degrees.
Not exactly the way I came, this path
to the center, where there is no Minotaur.
My dragons are all in my heart,
slain or otherwise.
The first wall outlines a square
which no paths cross.
Is this square sacred ground,
reserved for shaman, priestess,
and holy man?
If I stepped inside where no tracks appear,
would I transport to another place or time,
reappear burned to ash by sacred Geometry?
A friend asked a transit driver
in Nashville's less sacred geometry,
"Is this my stop?" Her simple reply,
“Either sit back down or get off the bus.”
From my latest book https://walnutstreetpublishing.com/product/its-just-a-phase/.
This story began in my journal. I went down several Rabbit Holes as I explored the midwinter holidays and the significance of light in each. I also spoke of lunar and solar calendars and the Julian vs. the Gregorian calendar. Here is a more succinct version.
I recently learned that St. Lucy’s Day is celebrated on December 13th, which was once the day of the Winter Solstice. Thanks to the Gregorian calendar, the Solstice is now later in December but the Saint Lucy’s Day remains on December 13.
Unfortunately, she has been removed from the Solstice, a celebration of light returning with lengthening days. Her name means light and she is believed to have worn a wreath of candles on her head to light her way. This left her hands free to carry food to persecuted people.
I attended two celebrations of the Winter Solstice this year and the return of the light was prominent in each. At one, we celebrated with stories and poems about this return, but at the other, we celebrated by walking a labyrinth.
The Labyrinth is a walking meditation. One must follow the correct path to reach the center and return to the entrance. It has a long history as a spiritual practice in several faiths ranging from Christian to Pagan.
I first walked a labyrinth at the Scarritt-Bennett Conference Center in Nashville and composed the poem at the end of this story while staying there to attend the yearly Southern Festival of Books. I read from a chapbook at one of the festival sessions. While there, I composed the poem at the end of this story.
Since then, I have walked labyrinths at several locations, primarily Churches. I know of two labyrinths in Chattanooga, but there are likely more.
The Labyrinth I walked on Saturday, December 21, was a temporary structure, laid out with tape on a large cloth. The lights were off in the room but candles illuminated the path. I remembered the song “Walk in the Light,” which I learned while studying at a Quaker college years ago.
Having finished that labyrinth, I walked an outdoor Labyrinth and visited a Yule Log fire. I observed a tradition by writing a prayer on a slip of paper which I fed into the fire so that it would ascend with the smoke.
I returned to the indoor area and found pages with reproductions of Labyrinths that one could navigate with a pen. There was even a butterfly with a labyrinth on each wing. There was a small labyrinth carved into a wooden square. I traced that one with my finger.
As I left the church that hosted this event, I noticed some words prominently displayed on the front window. A variant appears on their website, “…we acknowledge that our church sits on Cherokee, Mvskoke, and Yuchi Land.” Now that is a place-based faith.
With the arrival of Christmas, I am reminded that many holidays bring a celebration of light at this time. Advent candles are lit at churches on Sunday and many churches hold Candlelight Christmas Eve services.
This year, the beginning of Hanukkah, The Festival of Lights, coincides with Christmas Day. That is not always the case since Hanukkah is set by a lunar calendar. Hanukkah has no connection to Christmas and its celebration is nothing like Christmas. But it is noteworthy that lights are important to the holiday.
Whatever tradition you celebrate at this time of year, may you walk in the light.
Walking the Labyrinth
October 2013
The path of the soul is not linear.
It spirals like the turns of this maze,
outlined with bricks on their sides.
Like time, it circles back,
passes by starting points.
I turn left, one hundred eighty degrees.
Not exactly the way I came, this path
to the center, where there is no Minotaur.
My dragons are all in my heart,
slain or otherwise.
The first wall outlines a square
which no paths cross.
Is this square sacred ground,
reserved for shaman, priestess,
and holy man?
If I stepped inside where no tracks appear,
would I transport to another place or time,
reappear burned to ash by sacred Geometry?
A friend asked a transit driver
in Nashville's less sacred geometry,
"Is this my stop?" Her simple reply,
“Either sit back down or get off the bus.”
From my latest book https://walnutstreetpublishing.com/product/its-just-a-phase/.
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