Sacred Reflections: On Cycles and Becoming
The day eased into night gently and without fear. We are invited to do the same.
Photo by me: December 2, 2025
I believe in the power of inviting in what you need.
In April of this year, my husband and I stopped pushing against the gravity that was leading us back to his childhood home. We’re staying in the house that once belonged to his grandmother. She passed here, and the home carries that feeling of one season ending and another beginning.
The journey home has been painful for my family but we’re slowly climbing out of the heaviness that has marked this season in our lives. My son’s 3rd birthday is on Friday, the full moon is rising, the solstice is near. This time of year always invites me to reflect and meditate; to let the past loosen its hold.
When we were arranging our furniture, I decided to place my home office in front of a grand window that looks out on our spacious backyard. I have worked in front of this window for 8 months now and watched the seasons flow into one another. This time of year the sun sets earlier, and night falls more suddenly. I’m usually keeping my head down to close out my workday until I’m enveloped in darkness. Tonight was different. I felt the light change around me and looked up to see the brightest part of the sunset
The sky turned every shade of rose, violet, and ember. It was the kind of sunset that makes you pause without thinking, as if the world itself is softening into stillness. There is something comforting about watching the day give itself over to night. Everything moves through cycles.
These rhythms show up in our lives too, especially in the seasons divine change. When stepping into a version of yourself before, there is always a moment that feels like this evening sky. Not fully day and not yet night. Not the start and not the finish. A space between. A threshold. A tender pause in the transition from one chapter to the next.
We often try to rush these moments. It can feel easier to reach for clarity than to rest in uncertainty. We want to solve, decide, define, or arrive. Yet the sunset tells a different story. Transition is not a mistake or a delay. It is its own sacred season. A place where color gathers. A place where we are allowed to unfold slowly, honestly, and in our own time.
There is beauty in the space where change is happening. There is wisdom in letting things take shape without force. There is strength in being exactly where you are, even if your next direction is out of reach.