When light and darkness stand almost eye to eye, a special threshold time begins. The autumn equinox invites us to appreciate our harvest, to view light and shadow without premature judgment, and to plant a first seed for the darker half of the year. There are moments in the cycle of the year when nature tangibly shows us: Something is changing. The autumn equinox is one such moment. Light and darkness meet almost eye to eye. After that, the days in the Northern Hemisphere become shorter, the nights longer, and life slowly turns inward once again. For me, this time is not a sudden farewell to the light. It is an invitation to look differently: at what has grown in the past year, at what has cost us strength, and at what may now become quieter. The autumn equinox is not yet the beginning of the Rauhnächte. But it can be its first conscious prelude – the moment when we perceive that the journey into the darker half of the year has long since begun.
The first step on the path to the Rauhnächte
When day and night hold almost equal balance
Astronomically, the equinox is the moment when the sun crosses the celestial equator. Around this time, day and night are approximately equal in length, although not everywhere and not down to the minute.
But we don't have to make a complicated science of it, nor a rigid spiritual concept. We can simply understand this visible turning point as an invitation:
Where in my life do I wish for more balance?
Perhaps between doing and being. Between giving and receiving. Between closeness and withdrawal. Between holding on and letting go. Or between the desire to shine for others and the need to preserve your own strength.
Balance does not mean that everything always has to be calm, orderly, and divided exactly in half. Balance is alive. Sometimes we move more strongly to one side, sometimes to the other. What matters is that we can always find our way back to ourselves.
Honoring your own harvest
Autumn is the time of harvest. But our personal harvest consists of more than just visible successes.
An insight can also be a harvest. A decision. A boundary we have finally set. An experience that has changed us. A path we have overcome. Or the clear knowledge: I no longer want to go on this way.
We don't have to sugarcoat everything to make it valuable. Some experiences were difficult. Some wishes did not come true. Some things cost more strength than we expected.
That too can be part of our harvest.
When we look back at the past, we don't have to decide immediately whether something was only good or only bad. We often only recognize the significance of an experience much later. A conscious reflection can therefore remain open – honest, friendly, and without hasty judgment.
Light and shadow are not black-and-white thinking
When I speak of light and shadow, I do not mean good and evil. The dark side of a threshold candle is not "bad", and the light side is not automatically "right". It is about the space in between – about the here and now, in which we consciously cross a threshold and perceive what is currently there.
Our shadows are often those feelings, needs, memories, or qualities that we prefer not to show or perhaps do not yet properly know ourselves. Perhaps fatigue, anger, doubt, vulnerability, or the longing for withdrawal. Sometimes they are also unlived abilities, clear boundaries, or a strength that we have not allowed ourselves for a long time.
Shadow integration does not mean for me to approve of everything dark or to sink into it. It means to look bravely, clearly, and with light, to let your light into it, to change your perspective, and – if necessary and possible – to allow a transformation. Perhaps there is a good reason why a certain shadow appears here and now. Perhaps it once wanted to protect us, draw attention to something, or make a long-overheard part visible.
What wants to be seen? What wants to be understood? What belongs to me, even if it is uncomfortable? And what may change, if I no longer have to suppress it?
The candle makes this interplay visible in a wonderful way: Where there is light, shadow is also created. The shadow does not prove that something is wrong with the light. Both belong to the same picture.
Perhaps that is why we do not always have to burn brighter and stronger. Perhaps we can learn to shine without burning ourselves. And yet, light possesses a special power: Even the smallest flame becomes visible in a dark night. Not because it has to fight or defeat the darkness, but because it is and provides light.
What nourishes your inner flame?
Especially before the quieter season, an honest question is worth it:
What nourishes my inner flame today? What does it need – and what can I give it?
I may tend and protect my inner flame like a real candle light. A candle also needs attention: The wick is trimmed, drafts are avoided, and the flame is given a safe place. Such good conditions are no guarantee that everything will always go perfectly. But they give the light protection, support, and the best chance to burn calmly and clearly.
Then we can ask ourselves again:
What really gives me strength? What makes me come alive? What gives me peace, warmth, trust, or connection?
The answer does not have to be big. Perhaps it is a walk in the woods. A conversation. A song. A quiet morning. A clear decision. A warm meal. A candle that you consciously light only for yourself.
An inner flame does not have to blaze to be alive. Even a small, protected light can carry you through a dark time.
From harvest to seed
Autumn does not only give us fruit. It also gives us seeds.
A seed is placed in the dark earth. From the outside, nothing is visible at first. Yet it already carries a possibility within it. It does not have to grow, perform, or show itself immediately. It may rest, protected and inconspicuous.
There are such seeds in us too: a quiet idea, a new direction, a wish, a boundary, or a truth that still needs time.
That is why this threshold time also includes the question for me:
Which seed do I want to take with me into the darker time?
This question is not another task. It does not require a finished plan. Perhaps a single word is enough to accompany you in the coming weeks: Trust. Peace. Clarity. Courage. Security. Devotion. Freedom.
The wheel of the year with its twelve spokes
The autumn equinox opens a longer inner path. It is not the same as Samhain, the twelve days of Christmas, the winter solstice, or the Rauhnächte. Each of these thresholds carries its own quality.
I imagine the wheel of the year as a wheel with twelve spokes – one for each month. This image is my own spiritual circle of light and not a fixed astronomical system. Astronomically, the two equinoxes and the two solstices mark the major turning points. Spiritual wheel-of-the-year traditions know other festivals and transitions. My twelve spokes connect both with the lived rhythm of an entire year.
The wheel never stands still. With every month, every season, and every consciously experienced threshold, it continues to turn. And the beautiful thing is: You do not have to wait for a supposedly perfect beginning. You can get on at any spoke, begin your spiritual practice, and consciously perceive the present moment.
- January – Aftermath and orientation: The last Rauhnächte lead into the new year. Messages, wishes, and first steps may slowly settle in.
- February – Candlemas and the first awakening: Around Candlemas on February 2, it is clearly noticeable that the days are getting longer again. Candles, light, and purification remind us to carefully protect the newborn.
- March – Spring equinox or Ostara: Light and darkness meet almost eye to eye again. After that, the days become longer than the nights here. We have arrived back in the waxing light – is that not magical? It happens through the earth's orbit around the sun, completely without our intervention.
- April – Departure and growth: Nature becomes visibly alive. Ideas that have rested in the dark may take their first forms.
- May – Bloom and life force: Abundance, sensuality, connection, and creative power step more strongly outward.
- June – Summer solstice: The longest day and the shortest night mark the peak of light. At the same time, the path toward darkness very slowly begins again after that.
- July – Ripeness and devotion: Much is in full strength. At the same time, we may ask what needs care and where we want to use our energy more consciously.
- August – first harvest: What has grown becomes visible. We can give thanks, share, and examine what really nourishes.
- September – Autumn equinox: Perceive balance, honor the personal harvest, and consciously begin the transition into the darker half of the year.
- October – Samhain and the remembrance of the ancestors: Around the transition from October 31 to November 1, many people remember their deceased and turn their gaze toward impermanence, origins, and connection. Samhain is a traditional Celtic festival and not an astronomical turning point.
- November – Withdrawal and gathering: Nature becomes quieter. We too may gather strength and perceive what wants to withdraw, complete, or transform.
- December – Twelve days of Christmas, winter solstice, and Rauhnächte: We look back, sort, and create space. The winter solstice brings the longest night and the shortest day. After that, the light initially returns almost imperceptibly and accompanies us through the special time between the years.
Some people today also speak of summer Rauhnächte and create a mirroring practice around the summer solstice to the dark season. This is a modern spiritual interpretation and not a uniformly traditional Rauhnacht tradition. As a mirror image, I still find it exciting: While we experience summer in Germany, winter reigns in the Southern Hemisphere. And when we celebrate our Rauhnächte at the end of December in the winter season, it is summer in New Zealand. I would like to spend the Rauhnächte there once and experience how the same calendar days feel under a completely different light and in an opposite season.
For the Rauhnächte, there are different regional traditions and ways of counting. Many people today celebrate twelve nights between Christmas and Epiphany; others begin around the winter solstice. For me, the power does not lie in one single "correct" calculation.
I experience a threshold time not like a switch that is flipped at a certain time. For me, the change slowly builds up, and we can feel it physically, emotionally, or in our subtle perception. This is my personal and spiritual experience – not an astronomically measurable fact. Astronomically visible and measurable are primarily the position of the sun and the length of the day. What matters for my practice is that we consciously experience the threshold and choose a form that feels right for us.
The path into the Rauhnächte therefore does not begin until the end of December. It can be quietly prepared in autumn: with an honest reflection, with less external noise, and with the willingness to give space to the invisible as well.
A small autumn light ritual for you
For this ritual, you do not need any special experience. Take about ten to fifteen minutes, paper and a pen, and a candle that stands securely in a suitable holder.
1. Arriving
Place both feet on the ground. Breathe in calmly and out a little longer. You do not have to achieve anything. Simply notice how you are right now.
2. Lighting the candle
First, look at your candle unlit. Where does light fall on it, where is the shadow? Then light it slowly and consciously.
The candle does not have to solve anything today. It only accompanies this moment.
3. Perceiving
Look at the flame with a soft gaze and ask yourself:
What in me may shine right now?
And then:
What may also be there kindly in the darker, without me having to solve it today?
Leave some silence between the two questions.
4. Write three sentences
Write spontaneously:
- This may continue to shine in my life …
- I want to nourish this in the coming darker time …
- I wish for more balance between … and …
One word or a short sentence is enough. It does not have to sound beautiful, and no one has to read it later.
5. Find your light message
Read your answers again. Which word touches you especially? Underline it and form a simple sentence from it for the coming weeks.
For example:
- I may slow down.
- I nourish my trust.
- I preserve my light.
- I find my center again and again.
No resolution. No additional pressure. Just a friendly reminder.
The meaning of my threshold candles
My threshold candles are created for exactly these transitions: for wheel-of-the-year festivals, the twelve days of Christmas, the Rauhnächte, and personal times in which something ends, transforms, or wants to begin anew.
Some candles carry the dark on top and the light underneath. They accompany the path inward, letting go, and the conscious look at the past. Others carry the light on top. They remind us of the winter solstice, the new beginning, and the quiet return of light.
But no side should defeat the other. The meaning lies in their connection.
The transitions, color gradients, and structures of my candles make visible that light and shadow may touch. In this way, every candle becomes a light anchor: not to prescribe answers for you, but to open a quiet space for your own truth.
Your invitation for the coming time
Perhaps you will take an insight from this text. Perhaps a question, a seed, or just the wish to come into contact with yourself more consciously again.
That is enough.
You do not have to fill the darker half of the year with even more tasks. You may meet it step by step. With open eyes. With a warm light. And with the trust that something can grow even in the hidden.
My light message for this time is:
Both may be. I nourish my light and find my center again and again.
Accompanying light moment as a podcast or video
A guided light moment is being created for this article, which you can listen to or experience as a video. In it, I accompany you with my voice, small pauses, a candle, and selected questions through your personal threshold time.
Receive my free light moment
If you would like to accompany your path through the darker half of the year, the twelve days of Christmas, and the Rauhnächte with a handcrafted ritual light, you will find suitable Rauhnacht candles, threshold lights, and ritual sets in my Lichtermacherei.
Discover Rauhnacht candles and threshold lights
From the heart,
Dinah Henke
your Lichtermacherin from the candle workshop in Weidenberg
Since 2003, I have been creating candles with my hands and my love for the art of wax, which tell stories and accompany people through special times. Inspired by nature and cosmic events, moved by life, connected in the heart – and always dancing with the soul.
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Comments
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Ich wusste vorher nicht genau, was mich erwartet, und war zunächst etwas unsicher. Doch Dinah hat uns sehr ruhig und verständlich durch den Abend geführt. Die Fragen waren tiefgehend, aber nie zu viel. Meine Kerze und mein persönlicher Satz begleiten mich seitdem weiter.
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Liebe Dinah, der Lichtmoment hat mir richtig gutgetan. Besonders schön fand ich, dass Licht und Schatten nicht als gut oder schlecht bewertet wurden. Ich konnte einfach wahrnehmen, was gerade in mir da ist, ohne etwas lösen zu müssen. Danach war ich viel ruhiger und klarer. Danke für diesen besonderen Abend.