(Click the audio above to listen to the full meditation. It’s unedited, so you might notice a few stumbles, background sounds, or natural pauses. I hope you enjoy it just as it is. Paid subscribers can click here for edited meditations.)
I’ve shared before how much I love a campfire. There’s something nostalgic about it for me—the flicker of flames, the comfort of warmth, the sense of gathering. And of course, a good campfire song. But lately, I’ve been thinking more about the darkness that surrounds a campfire. It struck me that the darkness is just as compelling as the light; it allows us to see. The two exist together…one revealing, the other holding mystery.
Not long ago, my young nephew was visiting the farm. I watched as he ran joyfully across the lawn and fields with a mason jar in hand, chasing fireflies. For hours, he darted through the dusk, led by curiosity. At one point, he managed to catch four or five little fireflies in his jar. They buzzed and flickered like a tiny lantern, alive and magical, until we gently encouraged him to let them go.
What struck me most was how comfortable he was moving through the darkness. He wasn’t afraid. He was pulled forward by the light, but it was the darkness that made the light visible. It was in the dark that his curiosity lit up.
Darkness isn’t a void. It isn’t empty. It’s often the space we enter when we’re looking for something meaningful, something new. Just like my nephew searching for flickers of light on a summer night.
So if you find yourself in a time of darkness, consider staying curious. There may be small glimmers ready to surprise you.
Let’s move into our meditation now...
