I see the light in the darkness.
I see the light in my heart – I keep it on for so many.
It can flicker and go out, but nearly everything (and everyone) is rechargeable. One thing – to my credit and also my downfall – is that I always fight to be me. I’m never too compromised. I’m never too sad or scared or angry or anxious to not be able to let down my defenses. And I’m always me; I’m always here. You can call me at any hour of any day or night and you can look me in the eyes, and I will be someone you can reach, and reach for. That doesn’t mean I haven’t been in deep, dark places, and that I won’t again, but I can shed my skin and get to the person I always was; always will be. Not compromised and not afraid to keep the light on in my heart.
I see the light in my mind – I keep it on for so many, but mostly myself.
In my imagination, it’s a pull-chain lamp – gathering heat and spark from so many sources. The past, and only what it gives to the present, but not what keeps you chained there. On and off, pulled, and pulled again. Back and forth, in the safest of ways. The future, and what it can offer based on what we have seen and dreamed, and what’s beyond that as well. It’s beyond our wildest everything – the light beyond your sightline, warming and growing and healing another.
I see the light in you – you keep it on for so many, and for yourself too.
Unconditional understanding. I love to lock eyes with strangers. I’m fairly fascinated by each and every one of them. I have to feel connected, though. If I’m in one of my dark spells, or if I’m feeling worthless or low, I look to the ground. I never want anyone else to feel that way, so I make sure that when I’m not in the darkness, I let others see my light. I want people to feel seen and fascinating, because that’s what people are to me – seen and fascinating. May we know it.
I see the light in friendship.
It’s a bit of a theme these days especially now that cold and darkness and antisocial tendencies are upon us. Sometimes I feel distanced and out of sorts and out of orbit and contact. I feel left out too, sometimes. Mostly I remember that in any given week, I see 3-5 local friends I adore. I speak to 3-5 non-local friends I adore. And that right there is more than enough to add light.
I see the light in love.
It’s in the possibility – the way I can feel love and make others feel it too. The fact that I can fall in love, and that I have done so at least more than once. I’m thankful for the strange magic it takes to feel that joy/pain. The way it stretches and strengthens you; rewards you with aching bliss.
I think about it. How many times have I just felt it, how many times have I just said it, and how many times have I done both? I’m happy with conclusions I’ve come to – about the unconditional, un-fragile, true love that is both exciting/passionate, and comfortable/steady. When and where and how you love the WHOLE person, and not just what they can give you, or what they only have on certain days. This is the whole messy thing. The stuff of realized dreams.
I see the light in doing what I’m meant to do.
The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen is sunlight on eyelashes and curls. The autumnal mingle of leaves, clouds and light. Sunbeams. Light, light and more light. Light on snow, light on grass.
I see the light, in both light and dark spaces.
See, I believe in narrow shadows of darkness, and wide patches of light. I believe in narrow patches of light, in an overwhelming darkness. There is overwhelming color, and also, I believe in shades of grey, in between all of the black and white. I believe in everything good about myself, in a world in which it’s ok to admit – to you, to me – that I have thought, said or done things I never thought I’d think, say or do. And yet despite that, I will always turn to the light.
I see the light in the future, and I see it in them.
I always wanted to have kids, and I always wanted to have kids so I could teach them all about strange earth magic. Like smiles and love, and the good kind of power, where you can work on yourself and always seek the higher. I never realized how much of parenting would be me hiding in the bathroom or looking at my phone when they talk to me. And I never realized how much they’d flourish despite that, even teaching me a lesson on this road we travel together.
I see the light, and I light my way for you; and you light the way for me.
I used to spend so much time thinking of the roles I didn’t fill – like being a leader or a knitter; or having girly handwriting and just one best friend. So all the things I’m not doing and being. These days I think about the natural born roles I’ve always filled, and always will. I’m a storyteller and a connector. I have infectious enthusiasm for nearly everything. I’m a lover and the good kind of fighter. I’m an analyzer, with a near perfect success rate of gut reactions being right.
I see the light in hope and possibility.
These days, the sunsets are up to 5:02 or so, up from 4:18. The sunrises light up the snow. The other night I slept on the couch for the whole night and it was fitful and heart-racing and not something I repeat often. Every time I woke up, on the hour, I ran through my fears and the losses in my mind. The next morning, as the sun lit the snowy landscape, I realized something big. That I didn’t once think about the things and people who had been plaguing me in recent past. They were out of my grasp, and thankfully out of my heart. Instead I thought about my very real fears and losses, but they were ones I could work with. The very things at the/my core.
It’s in the way the sun comes up over your own horizon – your ocean, field, thick forest of trees. The light meeting the reflection in your eyes and heart and mind. They meet each other just so.
Of the blackest night,
There’s a guiding star.
No matter what or who you are.”
I’m linking up with Finish The Sentence Friday (FTSF) for another fun and challenging prompt. This week’s topic is “I see the light in..” And there’s time to write yours. Link up your post HERE.
So, where do you see it?