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,
Burning bright,
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?
Absolutely beautiful and I love the many ways you see the light, my friend!!! Hugs <3
And to you, my dear!
So heartwarming!
Thank you!
Another beautiful post, Tamara. I love your line “Everyone is rechargeable.” That is so true. We all need to make sure we are recharging, however that looks. I think it is funny that you have thought about not being a knitter. That’s so funny. Knitting is not necessary, just a hobby. And we all pursue the hobbies that thrill us, which makes life so multi-dimensional and interesting!!
I know! It’s how ridiculous my brain is that I focus on that. And my bad handwriting – ha! It’s true that I don’t need to be a knitter but I suppose it’s symbolic of how I wish I had diligence and patience to do what I assume knitting needs.
I see the light in you. I see it in my kids and grandkids and husband. I see it in the magic of existence. Light is consciousness.
Woohoo! I always hope we’ll see it. I’ve always seen it and can’t imagine life without.
‘I rest my case’*
lol
I came here to post my contribution and only then scrolled to the bottom (of your post).
Like minds, yo, like minds.
(Now I just gots to figure out how to post this thing.)
*In defense of the total efficacy of the Wakefield Doctrine as a tool for understanding….
“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.”
Look up when you are feeling low. It’s OK for people to see it and then they know that others have those lows too. Promise.
You are amaze-balls my friend!
YOU are amaze-balls too! And you’re right – I’m going to try to look up. Sometimes I feel worse because people can be crappy but I’m not crappy!
All hail to the non -crap-tastic people of the world! They are my favorite:)
I see the light in my family, my friends and in the beauty of the beach. I also see it in your beautiful photos! Even if I am not feeling especially light myself, it really is always there.
It is! And we can remember that when we’re missing it. I see the light in your yummy recipes!
I’m jealous that in a week, you see three to five friends for something or other. I’ve struggled to make friends for a while, and more especially since we’ve moved. I actually miss going “to work” (rather than working from home) because I miss going to lunch with co-workers, who are friends, but not friends-friends, who can see us in light and dark.
I meet the eyes of strangers too, when I can, like you because they are fascinating and amazing. Glad you said you’d co-host this week. Gorgeous post, friend. Truly.
Well it is tough with working from home here, but this isn’t a new place for me. Sigh – we should be neighbors because I like big mountains and I’d love to go out for coffee at least five times a week with you! At least. We are able to see the light in each other, and always will.
Thanks for letting me co-host!!!! Always!
This cult favorite was a classic in the making and still matters after 45 years. I wish you could have seen the lines that stretched from the front of the Court Theater in Somerville to Division St. around the corner and movie goers turned away. You see the light in so many people and in so many ways Tamara, and your light shines brightly like a beacon in so many of your blogs. Your pictures add even more light and color! l try to see the light in people, places and things while l share my own. Sharing one’s light reaches out to others like a helpful hand.
Oh, Eddie! I wish I had seen them as well! That movie took my breath away. And it’s… weird. I’m not ready for my kids to see it!
Your light shines too! I see it in every comment. It helps fuel my fire to keep writing at this thing, week after week.
Thank You Tamara for your kind words! Truthfully, I feel honored to be even a a tiny spark of inspiration that fuels your fire🔥 and your passion for blogging and writing. Your fire is yet another source of all the light you shine, and the light you easily see in people, places and things all around you.
You always have been! Always! Your comments show thought and care, and a new perspective too. My Friday commenters are my favorites – and definitely the reason I keep going.
I always get the ‘something’ from your posts that I believe all of us, here in the blogosphere, hope to write into our own posts. It isn’t just the engaging storyline (of any given blog post), it’s the sense of being invited to share a view into another’s world.
Very cool
that was me (the Anonymous Comment)… like, we’re all giving our most to writing these posts and comments and replies ’cause we want to be anonymous. lol
not sure, what’s up with my site, but enjoyed yours
Oh no – you’re still anonymous! Can I guess? Judging from gorgeous words, I’m guessing.. Mardra? Embarrassed if I’m wrong!
OMG, this whole post is so beautiful, Tamara! Your photos, plus your words…sigh. Lovely! I’m also glad I’m not the only one who sleeps on the couch like I did last night. I could not sleep and so not to continue disturbing my sleep mate, I went to the couch. I did the same: “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. ” Me, too!! I see the light in you.
And I, in you! Yes, couch sleeping is not my favorite. I have been doing it more because I’ve been sick for almost a week. And sometimes it’s just easier to suffer the congestion alone. Real life is not being sick and I have to remember that. (it’s hard when sick)
Does your mate say he’d rather you disturb him? Mine does! And last night I did go into bed on the earlier side and he was so happy.
So beautiful. Back when I was a new blogger, yours was one of the first blogs that I could feel so much light coming from! You were making people smile and cry and laugh and think, and you still do.
OMG, thank you. I’m one of the old girls around here (in blogger speak) and I’m so happy to still have the drive and the love for this. And amazing friends like you.
Just saw this! 💖
“I believe in shades of grey, in between all of the black and white.” Even dim light is light and it’s too bad so many live in that black and white world, lacking in compassion or compromise or the willingness to listen… from politics to religion to bringing up children or (from what I hear) making the perfect martini. Yes, grey is beautiful…xoxox
ha! I’ve never made a martini before either. Shades of grey – really all so unique. Thank you for this.
Yes – it’s beautiful time when we begin to realize and celebrate all we *are* instead of the constant worry adn quest to what we *aren’t.* Beautiful.
– Mardra