Find Your Light

Before you take your next step

I’m one of many, I’m sure, wandering between bed and computer in a dystopian stupor. Unable to sleep but no longer able to watch. Stomach in throat, fear on lips. The road ahead feels dark and vast, unlit and unsure. I feel extinguished. I’m sure you do too. The fire of promise, the warmth of newness and velocity of change, suddenly damp and ashen.

We burned so bright and tried so hard- what’s to become of our flame?

Until now we’ve been a campfire; burning wild and free, fed by the branches and pulp of social media, memes, polls and predictions, our smoke at the liberty of political winds. I encourage you now to reimagine your fire. To preserve and protect it from extinction.

Consider the way a gas lantern continues to burn, its flame customizable yet never quelled. These flames are visible yet safely kept in an enclosure of glass and metal. These chambers cannot snuff you and your fire can do no harm.

I venture that that these protective enclosures are not only your physical self, but your family of choice and blood, your safe haven spaces, your tribe, the fellow flames that joined yours to shine all the brighter.

For now, in the days and weeks ahead, protecting your fire must take precedent over wild abandon. Keep it safe. Keep your glass housing clean and throw no stones. Open your valve when you can to increase your light, dim it as you need to protect your reserves.

Reinforce the lamps that line your street. Take care of you and yours, doing the next right thing in each moment. Nothing more for now. Find comfort in your community. Forgive those within it of pure heart and good intention, no matter where you stood yesterday.

Marvel at how very little the minutia matters when your focus turns to fiercely protect and serve the ones you love. Accept their love as fuel. Give and receive grace. Find resource in the unbiased beauty of nature, of animals, of art. Store this fuel and give it freely when you can.

Folks who are smarter than I will no doubt have more wisdom and less metaphor in the coming days. I look forward to it. But for now, tend the flame inside your lantern and those around you.

After all, even a street lined with half lit gas lamps can provide a safe and comforting space to travel, to move on, to find the way home. When we’re ready to step into it, only our collective glow can illuminate the dark path ahead.