A Little Light in the Darkness

On moving, letting go, remembering, and learning to find my own light.

I’ve been thinking about how much life can change in such a short time. A few months ago, I had a different home, a different studio, and a pretty different idea of what this season would look like.

Since then, I’ve packed up my life, moved into a new house, brought candle production home, and started turning a basement into Astra & Arrow’s new studio. There’s been a lot of carrying boxes, figuring things out as I go, making room for a new dog, and wondering where on earth I put the thing I just had in my hand.

I’m grateful for these changes. I’m also tired. I’m excited about what I’m building, but some days it feels as though I’ve spent all my energy just getting everything into place. I’m trying to let both feelings be true.

One thing I keep coming back to is that slowing down doesn’t always look peaceful. Sometimes it looks like saying no to something you really wanted to do. Sometimes it looks like admitting that you don’t have the capacity to do it all. And sometimes it’s simply lighting a candle at the end of a very long day and letting that be enough.

A Little Light for My Inner Winter

As the days get shorter and I look toward November, I’ve been thinking about the different seasons I’ve lived through internally. There have been times I’ve felt completely alive—curious, creative, open, ready to chase whatever strange pull was calling me next. And there have been winters that had nothing to do with the weather.

I know what it’s like to feel uncertain, exhausted, or changed by grief. I also know the joy of feeling like myself again. I used to want to hurry through the harder seasons, as if there were a prize for reaching spring first. These days I’m trying to be a little gentler with myself.

This is part of why candles mean so much to me. I began making them during the pandemic, when I lost my massage therapy job and needed something hopeful to hold onto in my meditation practice. I paired fragrance with affirmations and made a small ritual out of lighting one. That first little flame didn’t fix my circumstances, but it changed the feeling of the moment.

It still does.

I love that a candle doesn’t erase the dark. It simply makes a little room for warmth inside it. Whether I’m in an inner winter or a season of thriving, I can light one and remember to be where I am.

What the Contrast Keeps Teaching Me

I’ve been sitting with the idea that contrast can bring clarity. I often recognize what matters most after something has changed or been taken away. I notice how good a quiet evening feels after weeks of chaos. I notice how meaningful an ordinary routine becomes when I no longer have it.

There’s an image in the Bahá’í writings that I love, of the heart as soil that can be cultivated and made ready for growth. I think about earth being turned over: how the process doesn’t look especially beautiful while it’s happening, yet it creates the conditions for something to take root.

I also think of the old metaphor of a sea captain learning to navigate through storms, not just calm waters. I don’t believe hardship is something we should have to be thankful for. Some losses are devastating, and I wouldn’t dress them up as lessons. But I do believe difficult chapters have changed the way I see myself and the life I want to live.

I’m trying to remember that two things can be true at once. I can miss what was and be curious about what’s next. I can be grieving and still experience joy. I can be proud of how much I’ve done and know that I need to rest.

The Love I Still Carry

Día de los Muertos has me thinking especially about the people and animals I’ve loved and lost. My sister Julia is part of the story of how I became who I am. Losing her changed the course of my life, including the paths I followed while trying to understand my grief and find myself again.

And then there are my dogs, Khaleesi and Lola. I miss their personalities, their familiar faces, and those tiny details that somehow hold an entire relationship: a certain look, a favorite spot, a silly habit. I miss the version of everyday life that included them.

I think that’s one of the strangest things about grief. The love doesn’t go anywhere, but suddenly there are fewer places to put it.

That feeling inspired me to create Forever in Our Light, a virtual pet ofrenda on the Astra & Arrow website. I wanted a place to share their photos, speak their names, and invite other people to do the same for the animals who became family.

I’m accepting pet tributes through October 27. After that, I’ll open the ofrenda to submissions remembering other family members and loved ones, too. It feels right to let this space grow into a place for all the love we continue to carry.

Visit the Virtual Ofrenda

A Different Way to Give Back This Year

For my birthday, I held an in-person event at Chicago Animal Care and Control with Safe Humane Chicago. I loved being able to bring people together in support of the animals, and I wanted to do something similar for Día de los Muertos.

But between moving, getting settled, and building out my new candle studio, I haven’t had the time or energy to plan an event that feels thoughtful and complete. The old version of me might have pushed through anyway. This time, I’m trying to practice what I talk about so often: honoring my own capacity.

So I’m choosing a smaller way to show up.

10% of all Autumn candle tin sales through October 27 will be donated to Safe Humane Chicago. I'll donate the funds raised after the fundraiser ends on October 27. It’s a way for me to honor the animals who have brought so much love into my life while supporting work that helps others.

If you’ve been thinking about picking up a candle for the colder months—or gifting one in memory of someone you love—I’d be grateful to have you be part of it.

Shop the Autumn Collection

What I’m Making Room For Next

When I imagine the month ahead, I don’t want to fill every available hour with another project. I want to finish settling into my studio, make beautiful things, explore fragrance, spend time with people and animals I love, and actually enjoy the home I’ve worked so hard to create.

I want Astra & Arrow to keep evolving, but I want it to grow from a place that feels good to live in—not just a place of constant doing.

If you’re thriving right now, I hope you let yourself savor it. If you’re in a quieter, darker season, I hope you don’t feel pressure to turn it into a breakthrough before you’re ready. I’m reminding myself of the same thing.

Life isn’t meant to be rushed through. It’s meant to be felt. And right now, I’m learning that sometimes feeling more means doing a little less.

Here’s to the comfort of candlelight, the people and pets whose love stays with us, and making a little room for whatever season we’re in.

With love and a little candlelight,

Anna
Founder, Astra & Arrow