Black and white, shadow and light… 2.0

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In honor of Dr. King and his day, as well as all those who worked and still work for the ideals he held dear – I am posting this again. My favorite quote and a story that shows how much things have changed…

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

~ Martin Luther King, Jr. ~

 

I made a new friend the other night – several, actually, but there is one special one I want to tell you about.  Miss A is five years old.  Five and a half, to be precise.  She is the daughter of a man honored by an organization I am proud to be a part of – I’ll write about that part some other time.  This is all about her and what I learned from a petite force of nature, all decked out in a teal  party dress and riding boots.

I met her early in the evening, before the dinner in the huge event space and the concert that followed, held in one of Washington’s largest public gathering places.  All of it to honor a handful of ordinary people whose lives have been touched by really difficult events.  People who have taken their darkest times and turned them around.  They have all found a way to use their pain for good, their dark for light.  Her father and his childhood friend were among the honorees.  They shared their story of how a simple gesture of friendship during the early days of school desegregation in Dallas changed the course of their lives and touched many others.

Before things got started, as the grownups mingled and chatted, Miss A and I checked things out.  We stood on the small stage, looked into the bright light shining on the podium, wondered how the red and green lightbulbs in the uplights magically transform into soft white beams against the backdrop.  She showed both great composure and childish delight as we met guests and dignitaries, shook hands and took in all the beautiful dresses and jewelry.  She was having a ball.

As the dinner program began, I returned Miss A to her parents, a table or two away from my own seat just in front of the small stage.  As I presented an award to the first of the night’s honorees, I smiled directly into that bright light, and winked at Miss A, letting her know that I saw her, even as I spoke my serious words and shared a story that might be beyond her comprehension.  As I returned to my table, she smiled broadly and beamed at me, and I thought about the memories she would have of this evening, and hoped I had made it fun for her.  I knew that she had a long night ahead – long for anyone, much less a five year old!

A little later, it was her father’s turn to be feted with his friend.  I looked over at his daughter and saw her return my gaze as she jockeyed for position, trying to find a way to see her father clearly.  Before I knew it, she was on my lap, beaming and waving at her daddy from the front row.  I could tell she was already a little bored and thought that she was not really listening to the introduction, as she played with my earrings and necklace, rearranging them for me.  I was wrong.  Those beautiful almond shaped eyes looked up at me, quite suddenly, and she whispered in my ear – a series of questions, one after another.  ”Why did Daddy have to fight his way off the bus?”  ”Why was Mike the only one to talk to him?”  ”Why did people say those things?”

There I was, with a virtual stranger’s daughter on my lap, a child whose skin happens to be much darker than my own, a very young mind with such very big questions.  To not answer her would be to play it safe.  To stay quiet would be what most would deem wise, but I would see as cowardly.  I knew her parents well enough to know that we shared the belief that all people deserve to be seen and treated as the incredible beings that they are, regardless of race, economics or social standing.  I knew that, in the little time they had been in Washington, they had spent time at the new Martin Luther King, Jr. memorial with their daughter and that given that we were all the same age, their memories of him would be similar to mine.  More than that, I knew that they were lovely people who would trust me to answer Miss A’s questions.

And so I did.  I whispered back, not worrying about what others heard or thought, that it was a long, long time ago.  That the children at the elementary school had been taught this by their parents, who didn’t know better.  That it wasn’t the children’s idea – it was that they had incorrect information.  I took a deep breath and said that people used to think that if you were black, you were not the same as white people and that mostly, they were afraid of anyone who looked different.   That they were wrong, of course.  Of course.  That we all have the same hearts inside and that her daddy helps people to know that every day.  That Daddy and his friend had taught a whole lot of people to see that we are all the same and that’s why they were getting this award.  That it was important work.  That it takes all of us to do this work – just like Dr. King had spent his life doing, for all of us.

She was quiet for a minute, and I held my breath, hoping I had said something that would  begin to answer the questions.  She looked directly into my eyes and gave me a huge hug, squeezing me tight.  And then she said, softly, “I do that, too”.  I squeezed her back and told her that she was right.

I don’t know what she will remember of that night, as she grows and goes out into the world.  There will always be black and white, shadow and light.  I hope that our short time together helps, that she knows that the old lady at the big party in Washington loves her and sees her for the wonder that she is.  And if I could say one more thing to her, it would be this…

 

One day – soon, I hope – Miss A, I hope that everyone sees through your beautiful eyes.  I hope that all the colors blend.  I hope that you will shine your light into the dark and continue the work until, like you, no one understands why it would be any other way.

Sunday stroll…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To understand is to perceive patterns.

~ Isaiah Berlin ~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last Sunday, I strolled in a meditative way, looking for patterns.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Patterns of light and shadow, patterns of color, of patterns on patterns.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I managed to capture quite a few, and brought them here to you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I  hope you’ll find a quiet moment

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and breathe in the wonder of this world,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

even in the places we often overlook

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

as ordinary.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Emerging into the light…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Faith is the strength by which a shattered world shall emerge into the light.

~ Helen Keller ~

 

 

this little light…

This little light of mine,

I’m gonna let it shine…

~ Harry Dixon Loes ~

I woke up early this morning, full of these questions…

What if, inside of us, deep in our hearts, we, each and every one of us, have a flame. A light, yes, but also a way of keeping our heart warm and welcoming.

What if we come in with that flame fully ignited, ready to keep our hearts open to the world, to see everything framed by wonder and gratitude?

And what if, gradually, we are introduced and instructed in all sorts of dogma and institutional thinking which builds up over time, and makes it very difficult for air or hope or love to reach our flame and help it to grow in size as our bodies stretch into adulthood?

What if, in many of us, what could be an expansive fire of warmth and welcome both to ourselves and others in the world, slowly loses its power and can barely flicker?

What if, in some of us, our “pilot light” gets snuffed out, seemingly condemning us to a life devoid of anything good, and the gas that should be feeding that flame builds up pressure until we finally explode in rage and anger so huge that we can no longer live in community?

And what if, in those of us who do manage to tend our hearts well enough to keep the light burning, we make it so much harder on ourselves by moving in the world so quickly that it’s a constant struggle to keep the flame from being extinguished by the wind we create in our own rush, and the stiff breeze caused by others rushing past us.

So maybe we could try an experiment or two…

Light a candle, a single one, not one of the fancy ones that come in their own glass container. And probably not a birthday cake candle, either! You may want to put an oven mitt on the hand that is carrying it, just in case. Now walk around the house or wherever you are, at your normal speed, as if you are doing your chores, taking care of business, readying the kids for school – whatever your normal routine is. Don’t use your other hand to shield the flame, just move in your normal way. How long will that candle stay lit? I’m guessing not very long, even if you never made it outside.

Now relight the candle (keep that mitt on!) and slow your pace down. Keep one eye on the flame and another on whatever you are doing. How slowly do you need to move to keep the flame flickering nicely? Just notice – speed up, slow down, back and forth until you see what rhythm works well. Interesting, isn’t it?

No candle handy? That’s ok. Just find a place to sit, right in the middle of your day, with all its literal and figurative noise, and imagine your own heart and the light inside it. How’s it doing in there? Take a few minutes and focus on it, right there in the middle of the activity around you. Pay attention to how easy or difficult it is, to what is beeping or ringing or calling you and see how it goes.

Then try again when you can find a few minutes to yourself in a private spot. Post a sign on the door that says “Back in five…”, set a timer if you have a limited amount of time, and silence all the devices within hearing range. Put on some soft music, (preferably without lyrics you will want to sing along to). Cover yourself with a blanket, be sure you are comfortable. Now make that same visit to your heart. Slow your breath, feel your body soften and see how that flame is doing now. Imagine it glowing and growing stronger, softening your heart. Listen to the music and let everything else drop. How different is this experience, once you created a space and time to visit your heart in peace?

Just notice.

So now.

What if we each found a way to tend our own light by just slowing down a bit regularly? And by protecting ourselves from those around us who move at a pace that is beyond what we can easily adjust to?

What if we spent a few minutes each day gazing into that little bit of illumination and imagining our own inner flame, burning steadily, warming our hearts, allowing us to bring light to every one we meet along our way.

What if this could change our lives?

What if this could change the world?

What if?

It’s Tuesday, so this is part of Heather’s Just Write project – a wonderful community of writers. Find out more here – join us, if you’d like!here

looking for light…

There are two ways of spreading light; to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.

~ Edith Wharton ~

In the right light, at the right time,
everything is extraordinary.
~ Aaron Rose ~

A sensible man will remember that the eyes may be confused in two ways -
by a change from light to darkness or from darkness to light;
and he will recognize that the same thing happens to the soul.
~ Plato ~

From within or from behind, a light shines through us upon things,
and makes us aware that we are nothing,
but the light is all.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson ~

Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall behind you.
~ Maori proverb ~

To love beauty is to see light.

~ Victor Hugo ~

I went for a walk today, just for a little while, looking for light. This is what I found.
It’s everywhere.