The Shadow of Light

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Sometimes I think I sound like Ms. Pollyanna, because, sometimes, I feel like one. No matter what I have experienced, no matter how bleak the situation, I always try to see the light side, the one thread of hope that takes me out of that empty tunnel. I have known despair and loneliness. I have known a sorrow that grabs hold of my very marrow and shakes it. Yet, I hold on to the blissful moments, to the hope of their return. To the hope of their return.

In my attempt to remain authentic, however, I need to also honor the dark side of me, of life, of my thoughts. That is not to say I am feeling depressed or sad, but sometimes, I step into the shadows to explore whatever needs illumination. If I do not, I am in denial.

In seeing the dark side, I am thankful for the light, for one truly cannot exist without the other. The majesty of the stars needs the velvet backdrop of the night. The play between shadows and light brings soft contours, or sharp contrasts. Only darkness can truly illuminate the eternal glow; that is why diamonds are showcased against dark materials. In their co-existence there is stunning beauty. There is the awe of their difference, loving each other.

In my travels, I see the sadness, the despair, the pain of others. I recognize it. It's deeply human. I see the struggle towards the surface, towards the light. And it is truly a magnificent thing to behold. Because our pain is what makes us human. As does our joy. As does our need to feel the crevices and valleys in between. We ache for fulfillment and cloak our lives in the things that bring us bliss. A safety net against the waiting moments of longing, confusion, loss.

We each walk a different path, experience a different moment. Yet who among us has not been on that same path in a parallel time, in a parallel universe? We seek those of like mind; the comfort of their existence validates our own. Yet, equally we seek those whose path is diametrically opposed to ours. Lest we forget. Lest we become complacent.

I am fully aware that I am rambling. But I am humbled. Humbled by my blessings. Humbled by the very precious experiences that are missing from my life. Humbled that I have reached this far, and am still whole, still breathing, still hopeful. Still hopeful.

There is such debilitating beauty in this world. Moments that take my breath away. Moments that flood my throat with tears and blur my eyes with emotion.

Men who are not belittled by their public declarations of love. Women who save others from the jaws of despair, yet still find the time to create. Men who struggle with the judgement of others, yet have the time to lend their neighbor a helping hand. Women who raise their children alone, yet find the strength to smile and bake a cake. People who search for meaning in a world wounded by meaningless brutality and cruelty. Yet, there is time to wreck a journal and laugh like kids again. There is time to arrange flowers just so, and come back with yearning to one's garden that has thirsted with their absence. Students, so filled with love that they take the time to organize a party for their teacher. Friends who forget. People who are so absorbed in their own microcosm that they do not see an other's loneliness. People who go out into the bone-biting cold in search of elderly who might need assistance in a black-out. We are those people.

This is who we are. The light and the dark. And we are beautiful.

Blessed be :)