Feb 26, 2019


I love the idea of light.

I love actual light, the faint orange streaks in the sky, the last glimmers before the sun goes down.  I love light in the morning. I love light in dark places, specifically the torch or beam of a trusted and powerful flashlight. I love high beam lights on a car when they help uncover and illuminate a dark stretch of a road, or an unfamiliar curve. Light underwater is a special treat. The few times I was able to scuba dive in beautiful crystal clear blue waters, the play and magic of light unforgettable. The columns of lights that shine behind a cloudy sky always a reminder that in time the sun will shine again. The synchronized lights at the Bellagio Fountains in Las Vegas, stadium lights at a high school football game on a cold October night, the trusty light in our refrigerators that never fails. At the top of my list, the light of millions and millions of stars in the night sky.

My most favorite manifestation of light, the light that can be poured into someone's life by another human being.  I've been on the receiving end of this   amazing gift many times. I'm grateful and consider myself fortunate. And many times the person providing the life current, the life illumination was not aware of the significant impact they were having on my life.

That special "human light" can come in many shapes and sizes. A smile on a dark dark day.  An unexpected hand written note in the mail. An outstretched hand or a hug during a  vulnerable moment. Your seat mate on a flight when you're scared and your heart is about to pound out of your chest. The light that comes wrapped in the wonder and curiosity of small children, one of my favorites. The light of amazing, caring, teachers. The light that never dims over a lifelong friendship. The delicate light in black and white photography. The light in a beautiful song, or a reassuring comment. The light of nurture and validation that only Grandmas can provide.  The light of simple prayers.

Oh how I love LIGHT ! !

The light possible in the heart and minds of people, we are all capable of this light.  All we need to do is recognize the internal switch we have and  turn it on and be a source of light when needed. Sometimes it's 10 watts, sometimes 100 watts, all opportunities that can make a difference.

I ran into the poem below a few weeks ago. It was shared at a meeting of writers that I attended.  I'm not familiar with the poet. I provided a link below incase you're interested in knowing more about her.  I hope you enjoy the poem.

How the Light Comes

I cannot tell you
how the light comes.

What I know
is that it is more ancient
than imagining.

That it travels
across an astounding expanse
to reach us.
That it loves
searching out
what is hidden
what is lost
what is forgotten
or in peril
or in pain.

That it has a fondness
for the body
for finding its way
toward flesh
for tracing the edges
of form
for shining forth
through the eye,
the hand,
the heart.

I cannot tell you
how the light comes,
but that it does.

That it will.

That it works its way
into the deepest dark
that enfolds you,
though it may seem
long ages in coming
or arrive in a shape
you did not foresee.

And so
may we this day
turn ourselves toward it.

May we lift our faces
to let it find us.

May we bend our bodies
to follow the arc it makes.
May we open
and open more
and open still
to the blessed light
that comes.