This morning dawned bright and crisp here in the urban wilds of eastern Pennsylvania. Yesterday’s sharp wind and clouds are gone, leaving sunshine. If there was frost, it dissipated before I got up, but it is cold out there. The bright sun gives me energy. I never mind the cold in winter, but I begin to crave the sun very quickly when we have a string of dark days.
I think life is like that: we crave light, the light of reason, the light of faith, the light of peace… There seems to be little enough of them these days. I pray every day for at least a lamp for my feet so I know how to step. It took me a long time to realize I couldn’t change the world, I can only do the good that I see in front of me. The Christopher motto from the 50s is still with me: it is better to light one little candle than to curse the darkness. I’m trying to remember that every day when I set about my work.
If I sound pensive this morning, it is because I just returned from the funeral of a beloved cousin. Her passing and time with so many more cousins has me haunted by those who’ve gone before: parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts, all of whom are part of me and the person I’ve become. It occurs to me that that Life imbeds itself in my writing. I hope the Light they showed me does as well.
Now I have to find my desk and get back into the swing of things. Let’s see what dark corner I can give light to. But first, coffee.