After a couple of heavy posts I wanted to write something light for the holidays. I’ve been thinking about light a lot lately. As we approach the Solstice, that wonderful turning point where multiple traditions celebrate the rebirth of the light from the cosmic womb, the dark void, where all things come forth, I am contemplating light. I remember the light; not just the light of the sun, but the light we all are.
I have only spoken about this in words with a few close friends, but I have memories of the time before – before incarnating. I’m not talking about being in the womb, I’m talking about before that. I’ve also had memories of past lives, but the memories of being without a body are much different.
There are others besides me. Much of it is difficult to articulate. I can describe an aspect of it as being one ray of light emanating from a much larger source. I find this interesting, given the new thoughts that our whole universe may be a holographic projection, a virtual reality game of sorts for our higher selves.
I am more conscious of the light lately. As I walk around the city, look out my window, or gaze out over the river, I look at the street lamps, the auto lights, the sun in the sky reflecting off the glass of buildings, or dancing across the surface of the water, and remind myself that this is but a reflection of our one true Self, much like catching a glimpse of our physical body in a mirror or in the reflection of a store window.
I remind myself that the body is just an interface for this physical dimension, in the same way that a virtual reality headset is just an interface to another reality. I remind myself that each individual is also another point of entry, where the Source perceives itself through that individual form, together forming a compound eye, where all the data is fed back to this collective consciousness; this Source from which we all are.
I see this beam of light I am passing through the chakras and splitting into its various spectral components: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet, the same way a prism projects a rainbow from a beam of light. And, I see these colors forming and projecting what we perceive as physical reality, and realize that I am responsible for everything I create and experience.
Many poets have contemplated this. Here is one of my favorites:
Before there was a trace of this world of men,
I carried the memory of a lock of your hair,
A stray end gathered within me, though unknown.
Inside that invisible realm,
Your face like the sun longed to be seen,
Until each separate object was finally flung into light.
From the moment of Time’s first-drawn breath,
Love resides in us,
A treasure locked into the heart’s hidden vault;
Before the first seed broke open the rose bed of Being,
An inner lark soared through your meadows,
Heading toward Home.
What can I do but thank you, one hundred times?
Your face illumines the shrine of Hayati’s eyes,
Constantly present and lovely.
Another favorite of mine is more well known to Americans:
“The Snow Man” by Wallace Stevens
So much for keeping this post light.
Still, as we approach this season and celebrate the light returning, my wish for all of you reading this is that you remember the light within yourselves, shine like the sun, and sparkle like the light glinting on the snow.