Twinkle Twinkle Little Star: The Light Within Us

12.13.24

I stepped onto my balcony to place my crystals under the full moon sky, not planning to stay long. But when I looked up, my plans dissolved. I was transfixed—consumed by the glow, the radiance. Were those stars? In six years of living in D.C., I’d never seen stars in the city sky. I stood there, unfazed by the frigid air and gusting wind.

12.31.23

I’d spent most of the day writing. I was tucked away deep in rural Virginia. After a tub bath, and then moving through a gentle yoga practice, ending with a meditation, I stepped outside onto the porch to take in the last bits of 2023 and to sense what was to come. All of the world felt hushed. I could feel the presence of wildlife, although I couldn’t see it. The cold was heavy; it weighed me down in a comforting way. I took my hand and sliced the sky, opening my mind to a favorite childhood memory. I was remembering the many times as a kid when I would get lost in the woods behind our trailer down Royal Tartan Lane. Every opportunity I could, I would run off—alone. There was a wildness to me, then, that I observed and didn’t judge—I embraced it.

I often overstayed—lost in time, but found in the moment. Navigating fallen tree limbs, building forts from natural structures, and embracing the wildness around me. Though I was tempted to fear what might be “out there,” my innocence always prevailed. I played. I imagined. My mom’s voice would screech from our back porch: “D.J., it’s time to eat!!!”

I took a deep breath, drawing in the light that had survived my childhood—the light I had managed to carry all this way. I drew my attention towards the sky. I remembered the night I learned the famous “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” song. We were down at my grandma Brenda’s. I recall my favorite part of the song, for some reason, was “how I wonder what you are.” And still, I found myself wondering: what are you?

12.30.24

"A star is a massive, self-luminous ball of gas that shines due to its internal energy sources.”

—Britannica

"Stars are giant balls of hot gas…and its properties change as it ages.” —NASA

"Stars are still in the sky during the day, but they are not visible because the sun is so much brighter than the stars.” —AI Overview

In my search for understanding, I turned to definitions—science’s way of describing what I’d long wondered about as a child.

My neighbor, the one I spoke of earlier this year in the message “The Offspring of Darkness: Trusting the Lesser Light,” was outside the night after the final full moon of this year. I asked if he had seen the full moon the evening before. He mentioned how he did, and how he and his wife stood outside for a while admiring it as well. I asked if I had, in fact, seen stars too. He said, “Yes, they sure were stars. And the reason why you could see them even in the city is because during the winter, when the sky is darkest, it allows you to see them so much better.”

As I reflected on my neighbor’s explanation, I realized that the illumination I had glimpsed in the sky this year mirrors the light within me. Just as the stars broke through the city haze, the light within me continues to find its way to shine—despite the darkness faced and navigated this year. I see the sparks, the areas of my life glowing in ways I could have never imagined as the backdrop of this year. And it’s all encouraged me to wonder, in a year like this—in a year that has many times gone in the opposite direction of right. In a year full of fire, test, challenges, and destruction—why is it that I feel so hopeful, full, expectant?

After all these years, I’ve come to realize I don’t have to wonder anymore—not about the stars, nor about what we are. The stars above, those radiant points of light, are mirrors of the light within us. They remind me of the sparks of hope, courage, and love that have carried me—and perhaps you too—through the most challenging times. This year, I’ve seen that even in the darkest moments, our inner light refuses to be extinguished.

As we close this chapter of 2024, I invite you to pause. Feel your inner illumination—the brilliance that guides you, even when life feels uncertain. Reflect on the seeds you’ve planted this year, and trust that they will bloom in their perfect time. Just like the stars that shine most vividly against the darkest skies, know that your light is always there, waiting to be seen and embraced.

As we step into a new year, remember: we are the stars we look to in wonder. In moments of darkness, the stars haven’t disappeared—they’ve simply been waiting for their time to shine.

Happy New Moon & New Year! May 2025 be a year of blooming and brilliance for us all.

-Dr. Darrien Jamar