This Little Light of Mine, I’m Gonna Let It Shine (With a Little Help From My Friends)
On Wednesday mornings, I have the privilege of leading a Spirituality in Recovery group at Costello House, a Recovery Living Center for men in Asheville. On a recent morning, I decided to conclude our session outdoors. Standing in the driveway, I distributed the small, white candles with drip protectors to the residents. I explained that we would be spending four minutes in mediation, using the candles to center our attention. We would watch our candles flicker, listen to the birdsong, and breathe in the fresh air.
I hadn’t counted on the wind. Although the air had been calm when I entered Costello House, a steady breeze was now blowing. As we attempted to light our candles, our flames were immediately extinguished. “This is not going to work,” one man muttered.
Yet we persevered. Even as frustration mounted, I noticed how the residents were monitoring not only their own candles but the others as well. If one man’s candle went out, another person quickly stepped up beside him to reignite the wick. With experimentation, we quickly figured out ways to minimize the impact of the breeze - turning our backs to the wind, cupping our free hands around the flames.
After a minute of frantic candle-lighting and relighting, calm descended. Now we could focus on our flames. Now we could hear the birdsong. Now we could breathe deeply. Peace at last.
When my timer indicated the end of our 4-minute meditation period, I realized something marvelous had occurred, even though my original plan had not unfolded smoothly. “I’m actually glad the wind was blowing today,” I admitted, “because this exercise reminded us that we need help tending our flames.” The potency of the imagery was not lost on anyone. The men easily connected this experience to their daily, shared work of recovery. They know they need each other.
When our divine light is flickering, we need folks who will step up alongside us and fan the flames. If our light goes out, we need people who will help us reignite our passion for life. Even when our light is burning brightly, we still need friends who will help us guard our flames. We need companions to help our little lights shine.
In April 2024, I graduated from The Haden Institute’s Spiritual Direction Certification Program. To say that the 18-month experience exceeded my expectations is an enormous understatement. Within my cohort, I found faithful companions for my spiritual journey. I know they will fan my flame when it flickers, guard my flame when it shines brightly, and reignite my flame if the wick goes dark.
Because candles were an integral part of our shared practice during our six intensives at Haden, we created two candle rituals for our graduation. In the first ritual, as I read a litany of gratitude for all those who had accompanied us during our training - cohorts and mentors, Haden staff and faculty, family and friends - candles were lit to honor each group. In the closing ritual, we lit our candles and listened as Sheila Petruccelli, Haden’s Director of Creative Embodiment, read Jan Richardson’s poem “Blessed are you who bear the light.” As “Sending You Light” began to play, we moved into the aisles to light the candles of all those who had gathered in person to bear witness to our graduation. Soon the room was aglow, candles lifted, voices raised. Together we sang: “I am sending you light, to heal you, to hold you. I am sending you light, to hold you in love.”
How grateful I am for the light of all those who have accompanied me on my spiritual journey thus far. How grateful I am to have companions who help my little light shine.
Invitation to wonder: Who has companioned you on your spiritual journey thus far? Who helps you fan and guard your flame?
