Present Light: Fourth in a Series

“I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being.”

-Hafiz of Shiraz

When I began collecting and posting photos of streetlamps and lanterns, I felt compelled to remind not only myself but also the people in my small circle of the world that it is within our power to create, discover, or share Light. Light is ever-present. It is emitted by sun, reflected by moon, shining from stars, generated in light bulbs, flickering from the butts of bugs.

It is the essence of each and every one of us; bestowed within by the Divine One who orders all Creation. Light may be shadowed or temporarily hidden. Life has periods of darkness, to be sure, both metaphorical and literal. But Light is too powerful to be wholly snuffed.

This lamp is seen just outside the Cathedral of Notre Dame. We visited in 2017, and I was stunned by her beauty. I sat outside on a stone bench that may well have been perched on by a long-ago supplicant, taking it all in; I desired to be fully present in heart and spirit when I entered the edifice where so many faithful have prayed. My own faith has undergone so much turmoil, so much betrayal and heartache, that I required time to become open and soft of spirit, to sense the building as more than an architectural miracle. The balmy sunshine did its magic, though, warming me with the love and grace of the Divine One before I entered the cool darkness of the church.

2020 may be full of dark moments. I sense that it will. There is too much widespread pain and anger for it to be otherwise. And perhaps it is necessary. A breaking of the old ways to make space for the new. But let us each do what we can to hold up a light amid the shadows. Let us listen to each other when possible, knowing that some of what we hear will wound our hearts and challenge our values. Let us take care before flinging accusations or judgements.

It was a bright spring day in Paris, and so the lantern had not been yet lit. But its promise was evident: “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.”

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Present Light, Third in a Series

“At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.” – Nobel Peace Prize recipient, philosopher, physician Albert Schweitzer

Lately I have been making a conscious effort to step out of isolation. In my introversion and my insecurity, I tend to keep myself to myself, to hide my light under a bushel, so to speak. To be honest, I have doubted whether my light was of any value. But i realize it is. It truly is.

So I reached out to my neighbors on Facebook, asking who might be interested in a monthly gathering for the purpose of cultivating authentic friendships, the sort where we can ring on each other’s doorbells if our kids are sick, relationships that extend beyond friendly waves as we pass each other walking our dogs. Not a group for gossip and wine, no, but a company of genuine friends. A handful of neighbors want to embark on this project with me! We’ll see how our experiment goes.

I photographed these street lamps outside Westminster Abbey in London. I was struck by the two lamps standing side-by-side, in such close proximity to each other, as if to lend light not only to the street and its inhabitants, but to each other as well. Like people do. Like my neighbors do. We are light.

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Present Light, First in a Series

“I am going to notice the lights of the earth, the sun and the moon and the stars, the lights of our candles as we march, the lights with which spring teases us, the light that is already present.”
Anne Lamott

I have ever been a person who is drawn to light, to sun, to brightness and joy. Not for me the shadows and darkened nights. And yet, I know that darkness is essential, that a life spent in an eternal and endless glow is not chromatically rich. Variegated hues of gray and the negative spaces of art are what allow for rich texture and depth. In photography, in music, in painting, in life.

But still … I prefer light. It is my prerogative to do so. I choose to shine on! For it is in choosing to turn toward the light that I find resilience, and it is in resilience that I find life itself.

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