Light

Writing about light has no place to start. It is so full, full of significance and life giving. I tried to write about following the fairy lights for an anthology we created in my creative writing course at Wollongong University. Might look for that and see wether to share it next, my favourite poems with a faery light introduction…what I was trying to capture was too big to describe maybe. 

In my life since very small (as Christopher Robin says) there have been moments that stop my breath, still my fears, the anxiety melts, my spirit is so high I think for a moment I have always lived in clouds in the sky, brightly lit even in the storm clouds. 

All of these moments have been lit. Lit by streaming sun after rain, or the rainbow from the old plastic sun-catcher the children gave from the mothers day stall. It is dusty now. In winter there’s random rainbows in my now quiet kitchen. They go very well with rooibos tea and honey and milk (I know, sorry about the milk!) No more rows of sandwiches, just stirring myself from various weekly worries and fears. I’ve practiced breathing and staying positive. It doesn’t really work without deliberate gratefulness for small things, especially in the times when love and affection were not everyday things. 

So I always end up looking for light. The gentle kind on cloudy days, or The Simpsons-cloud days (from the intro song). There’s a reflection in a raindrop or the sparkle in my water cup by the Japanese garden that somehow was gifted to my very rural suburbia valley. Nothing like light in water that moves, mesmerising, seems to be saying that long gazing is imperative. Then there’s light through leaves, this is my favourite, I cannot count the tears that have been soothed by seeing light flat through leaves and onto my skin. Always there are sunsets and sunrises, and the after glows that surely mean all will be ok.

Anyhow I strongly believed that faery were real and was always trying to find them when I was younger, so flashes of colour or light was what I looked for. The habit hasn’t left me, I will definitely let everyone know when I see them! I am certain it was what gave me courage to get through very painful things. I had a challenging childhood. But was so focussed on following faery light or colours that it passed me by. Thats why stories and poems and drawings and painting and songs and dance mean so much. It is what keeps my heart moving toward light and love, not the mud puddle greys of despair. Although mud is pretty cool when its needed! I can write about these things cheerfully because I have allowed myself to feel. Felt deep dark emotions and questioned everything. Very often. Yet the light still lifts me, so I try to stay there. The habit seems to work, like gratefulness. My eyes see what’s good, even if there is great darkness. It is a bit annoying and optimisitic, especially if you read this in a dark time, will seem rather trite or too simple. I know it works though. 

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