“I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars.”

— Og Mandino

In a few minutes, I will pull on my boots and my winter jacket and step outside into the still-dark morning.  The chief reason that I do my writing this early is the pleasure I find in watching the sun rise.  If I could be made of only one thing, I would choose light.  I love the way it makes the world sparkle.  I love the way it slips unnoticed into a storm cloud or a crystal and bursts out of the other side with vibrant color.  I love the way it creates shadows when it touches things, confirming their existence in both their illuminated presence and in its own absence that takes the shape of each recipient.  It is the light that spreads across the landscape and offers us choices, beckoning us to make a decision and keep on walking in search of its faraway end.

If I am very lucky when I leave for my sunrise walk, the clouds will part in the still-dark sky and show me the stars.  I don’t dance so quickly under the night sky.  With darkness enveloping the land, I often feel as though I don’t know where to step.  It is then that I look to the stars and feel the reassurance of their light touch the small candle that burns within me.  Without the darkness, I might lose sight of my own small light; but under the stars, I can feel its intensity and let my own beacon illuminate my path.

Perhaps the light of day is our example, calling our bodies to awaken and our minds to be alert and ready to choose our way; but it is in the darkest night that our souls are reminded to follow the light that burns within us.  It is in the dance between the two that we learn how brightly our own light can shine.