It has become my goal to absorb so much Light that darkness has no chance.
As I wrote to a dear friend earlier today, I finally realized that I am completely content to live in Houston right now. Not just live, but be, and dwell. I think the whole meditation on "living sent" has been a big part of that. Since my sweetheart was gone last week I had some good time alone, really reflecting on life here and the absolute potential it has to be extraordinary if I just open my eyes to Today, Right Now.
Light shines that Now is valuable--that Today is eternal.
Light reveals that this moment, too, can be--and has been--redeemed.
Light pierces through the thickest armors--bitterness, anger, insecurity--
and no 'ill-timed' circumstance or unplanned happenstance can escape its rays.
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I am an idealistic dreamer. As such I tend to live in things as I wish them to be sometime in the future. But living Light demands me to be all here, fully now. Light rewards my present existence with the beauty of reality that is most often obscured by the ugliness of reality's darkness.
Light shines that one smile can turn the tide of a student's whole day.
Light reveals that my eyes communicate caring, and truth.
Light pierces through the walls of gossip and complaint to show a weary soul in need of a soft shoulder.
And the growth of Light? It is boundless! And you, darkness, cannot capture my Light, bottle it up or contain it in any way. Darkness, you are not welcome here.
That reminds me of a poem by John Donne:
ReplyDeleteDeath, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.