Thursday, January 28, 2016

January 28, 2016 - The Requirement of Light


I was rounding the bend on a dark and cold day, my mood as dark and cold as my surroundings.  Suddenly the sun explosively burst out from behind a cloud.  It was completely unexpected and blinding, to say the least.  I had no idea where it even came from because the day had been so dark, but suddenly the day went from dark and forbidding and unforgiving to hopeful and even joyous, all in the blink of an eye.

How is it that the sun always knows?  Not only does he burst through the greyness of the winter weather, but he also bursts through the darkness of our minds.  There are those who say that the weather has a lot to do with our moods, and perhaps there is some truth to that.  I do believe that on the days when the weather and my mood match, the two feed off one another endlessly.

And then the sun came.

Did you ever just come to the end?  The real end?  The point where you say, “That’s it.  I’m done.  I’ve done all I can.  I guess I should just give up.  I was a fool to ever attempt this.”  I’ve found that at the times when I’ve come to the end--the real end, not just when I’m frustrated and irritated, but consumed with sorrow--one of two things will happen.

The first is that the greyness will close in around me, envelop me, swallow me up.  It will confirm my choice.  It will say, “Yes, you are done.  You have failed.  It is over.”  And I will cry my eyes out, earnestly heartbroken.  The greyness will overcome me, overwhelm me, and threaten to suffocate me, but if I relax into it, I will see that it is a large protective field placed around me to hold me until I’m ready to move on.

The second thing that can happen is just as I reach rock bottom and truly lose all hope, the sun will burst through in blinding rays.  All creatures will quake at his entry!  He will command the clouds, command the rain, command the dark creatures.  Everything will shrink before him, dazzled by his brilliance, frightened by his power.  Then he will pick me up and say, “Not so fast.  Not yet.”  And then the way becomes lit again, the rays of hope are all around me, and I wonder how I could ever have doubted, how I could ever have thought of giving up.  Tiny little “right” things begin to happen, but only until I get on my feet again.  Then it is all up to me once more.

Somehow the sun knows these things.  He knows how to do this.  He knows when to abandon us and leave us to our misery and our sorrow.  He knows when to burst through like a hero and fight off the villains of darkness.  Either way, we change, we grow, we accept.  Some things require the sun.  And some require darkness.