A Little Warm Light

It is a foggy, misty morning. I’m sitting in our office with my pup Oscar snuggled next to me in an armchair. We’ll have to wait a few more hours for the fog to lift before the dogs and I go on our daily walk, but right now they are waiting patiently. Even they are not eager to be out in the cold, wet air.

We are in the dark, gray days of November. The damp chill has a way of sinking into our bones, into our hearts, into our minds. It is a difficult time of year.

The Danish people are known for their melancholy which is so elegantly captured by their artists and philosophers. The Danes also use more candles per capita than any other culture in the modern world. They don’t despise or try to avoid the cold dark of winter. They light candles…many of them. Candles don’t give off enough light to transform the long winter nights of Denmark into the bright days of summer. Instead, candles embrace the darkness in the cozy glow of flickering flame.

We experience periods of cold darkness throughout our lives. Job loss and divorce and just making big mistakes. It’s difficult in those moments to see anything but the chill of failure. We do our best to push the pain away with a positive attitude. But running from pain also denies us the great benefit that pain brings. Discomfort makes us more attuned to what comfort actually is.

My Danish grandpa told me that the secret of happiness is having low expectations. There’s some truth to that. Maybe we don’t need much. Maybe in order to face the cold, all we need is a little warm light.