All The Light We Cannot See
This summer has taken me by surprise - in all the beautiful, wild, unexpected, and at times overwhelming ways that it can. Some things are still being processed through self forgiveness and a cleaner lens - while others have been digested and integrated and have left me feeling more nourished and aware, than not.
I’ve been looking down more than up lately. In a way that's felt more curious than grey. Going in. Observing. Washing my cells and the light trails between them.
There is this idea that looking down throws us off balance. This idea that down resembles depth and depth has to be heavy or scary or dark. And it certainly can be, but there is a light there too.
When Krista Tippett interviewed Sylvia Earle, the only human to walk the bottom of the ocean, she talked about how even there, at our most feared depth, the light was not gone, it simply became a different source of luminescence.
And I believe that is what I strive to do for the ones I work with - to find some kind of luminescence in the heaviness of our shadows, of our stories.
For so many years I’ve been digging through the darkness - intrigued and fueled by what sorrow and despair and grief has taught me. But what about the light that filters through? What about the joy and the hope and the happiness and the uncontrollable laughter - doesn’t that get teach us too?