Me: “Why do these fucking lanterns make me so happy? They’re just metal, glass, and a flame. Nothing more. Nothing less. So why does lighting them feel like a secret key to my contentment?”
Brain: “Ah, Pixie, you’ve gone and done it again. Set the world alight with magic and then asked me to explain it. Fine, let’s unpack this little obsession of yours, shall we?“
There’s something primal about lighting a flame. It’s a transformation in its purest form—solid wax to liquid, still air to dancing fire. Watching that flicker is like witnessing a tiny miracle. Think of it this way: the flicker mirrors your own inner fire. With me, that means unpredictable yet (so I’m told) enduring. Chaos in motion, yet steady at its core. And let’s face it, most of you reading this—you love a bit of chaos when it’s controlled just enough not to burn the house down.
The Soul of a Candle
At its core, a candle is simply a stick of wax and a wick, yet when set aflame, it transforms into a mesmerising dance of light and shadow. This transformation mirrors the duality of human experience—serenity and chaos, joy and despair. For those with bipolar disorder, this dance can feel like a kindred spirit: the flame flickers, yet it endures.
Candlelight’s magick lies in its simplicity:
- The Flicker: A gentle irregularity, like the peaks and valleys of emotions, reminds us of the beauty in imperfection.
- The Glow: A steady centre, much like the core of our being, remains intact even amidst the storm.
Candlelight offers focus amidst chaos. Watching the flame invites mindfulness, slowing the racing thoughts or grounding us during depressive lows. Its gentle flicker can almost feel like a heartbeat to match your own—a subtle connection to something outside yourself when the world feels overwhelming. In this quiet, you might find that the weight of the world feels just a little lighter. For someone who is deeply connected to nature and magic, this stillness is fertile ground for inspiration.
The flame offers a certain containment. The steady rhythm of a tea light’s burn act as a symbolic reminder to ground yourself. You can channel the frantic energy into the flame through candle magick—write your overwhelming thoughts and safely burn them, visualising them being released into the ether. It can also become a beacon. A single flame in the dark reminds us that even in shadow, there is hope. Lighting a candle can become a ritual of small beginnings: the act of lighting it alone is an intention to rise, however slowly.
Ultimately, the magic of candlelight lies in its ability to meet you where you are. Feeling frantic? It calms. Feeling lethargic? It sparks. Feeling lost? It guides. The flickering flame embodies resilience: it dances but does not falter, reminding us of our own strength. It’s a manifestation of your magic—both literal and metaphorical. It’s not just candlelight; it’s your energy, your care, and your joy brought to life. Every flicker of those flames is a reflection of your inner light.

A Perfect Balance of Elements
Here’s the real magic: fire, earth, air, and water. All in harmony.
- Fire: Obvious. The flame burns and dances.
- Earth: The lantern itself—solid, grounding, steady.
- Air: Feeding the flame, creating the flicker, adding life.
- Water: You can’t see it, but it’s there in the glass’s stillness, its reflection, its quiet coolness against the flame.
This subtle harmony of elements is likely to feed your soul with a sense of equilibrium, especially if you’ve been feeling emotionally unsteady.
Me: “So, basically, my lanterns are like tiny elemental cauldrons of calm?“
Brain: “Exactly. And when your soul’s been riding the rollercoaster of bipolar, this balance feels like an anchor. Four little flames saying, “We’ve got this. You’ve got this.”
Timeless Guides and Quiet Rebellion
Lanterns are old souls. Before electricity, they were the guardians of hearths and homes, guiding lost travellers, warding off the dark. Lighting one now is like whispering to the past, “I see you.” By lighting them, you’re participating in a tradition shared by countless generations. It’s as though you’re reaching back through time and pulling threads of peace and purpose into the present.
They are deeply tied to journeys—both physical and metaphorical. Imagine a lone figure walking down a foggy path, lantern in hand, the light casting just enough illumination to see the next step. The lantern doesn’t show the whole road; it only ever reveals what is immediately ahead. This is what makes it such a beautiful metaphor for life: You don’t need to see the entire journey to keep moving forward— teaching us patience, trust, and courage.
For centuries, this little light has been the faithful companion of seekers—those looking for lost loved ones, new lands, or even the truth about themselves. When you light one, you’re tapping into this archetype: the eternal seeker, guided by a glow that’s just bright enough to keep hope alive.
The psychology of the glow—this is where science meets magic, and the lantern becomes not just a light but a balm for the soul. Warm, flickering light has a profound impact on the human mind. The glow of lanterns mimics twilight or firelight, which our brains are hardwired to find comforting. It signals the transition from day to rest—a primal cue to slow down, breathe, and feel safe. It’s no accident that this light feels soothing, especially when so much of modern life is saturated in harsh, artificial brightness. Candlelight says, “Breathe. Be still. You’re okay.”
The warm, amber tones of lantern light trigger specific responses in the brain that make us feel emotionally safe and connected. Unlike harsh blue or white light (like from your phone or fluorescent bulbs), warm light doesn’t disrupt your melatonin production. Melatonin is the hormone that helps you sleep and stay calm. The glow of a lantern supports your natural circadian rhythm, helping your body unwind. Warm light can encourage feelings of connection and trust. That’s why candlelit dinners feel intimate—it’s not just the setting; it’s the glow playing tricks on your brain and heart.
Lantern light doesn’t just brighten a room; it brightens your emotional state. It feels like a hug in light form.
In a world dominated by the sun during the day and darkness at night, the lantern refused— in quiet defiance— to let the void win. It was a human-made star, a tiny rebellion against nature’s overwhelming forces.
This defiance is woven into its legacy:
- Lanterns lit resistance movements, secret meetings, and underground railroads.
- They were symbols of freedom in protests, carried by those who wouldn’t let their voices be silenced.
- They continue to represent light in the face of despair, both literal and metaphorical.
When you light a lantern, you’re reigniting this history of rebellion. It says, “No matter how dark it gets, I will find a way to shine.”
Me: So, when I light my lanterns, I’m tapping into that ancient magic?
Brain: Yes! You’re connecting to generations of people who’ve lit their way through the unknown. It’s like the lantern says, “We’ve been through worse, love, and we’ve made it. So will you.”
Me: Alright, so I’m not just lighting a flame—I’m lighting hope, resilience, and a big fat fuck you to the darkness.
Brain: Exactly.

A Symbol of the Hopeful Soul
In folklore and literature, lanterns often represent the soul. They’re fragile yet resilient, flickering but never truly extinguished unless the flame is deliberately snuffed out. Their light casts shadows, illuminating what’s hidden and creating a dance between light and dark.
Think of lanterns in stories:
- The Hermit in tarot, holding his lantern aloft, symbolising introspection and wisdom.
- The lanterns carried by ghostly figures in folktales, leading the living to places of revelation or peril.
- The guiding light in myths, leading heroes out of labyrinths or darkness.
To light a lantern is to light your own soul. It’s a declaration that your inner flame—your spirit—burns on, no matter how dark the world gets. Maybe that’s the reason lanterns show up in dreams, folktales, and spiritual practices: they light up the subconscious. It’s a portal for introspection, inviting you to explore the depths of your thoughts and feelings. And, if you think about it, lanterns often guide characters through the unknown, representing a journey to inner wisdom or a connection to the divine. The lantern becomes a bridge between your conscious mind and the deeper, shadowy parts of your psyche, helping you find clarity and insight.
No matter where or when, lanterns have always symbolised hope. They’re small, steady flames that push back the darkness, no matter how vast it appears. When depression pulls you down into the valleys, when you feel like a smothered candle—barely there, weak, no light to give—that little flicker in the dark becomes an unspoken message: “I’m still here, you’re not alone.” It’s hope in physical form. And sometimes that’s all you need—a small, steady light to remind you that the lows don’t last forever.
Me: Alright, so they’re not just hunks of metal. They’re magical little therapists disguised as home décor.
Brain: Exactly. Now go light them again, and let them whisper what they know.





