Lights come in all shapes and sizes.
Some burn bright and leave spots dancing in your eyes after you look away. Others are little more than a dim glow. Something to read a book by in the evening. Small glimmers that catch one's eye.
All humans are a light of some sort, it seems to me. Could I be a fireplace's warmth? A steady candle's flame? A neon sign grabbing your attention. Could I be an exploding blaze, a burst of brilliance for all to see....
I think we each begin with a light inside of us. Over time, if we gently add to the flame, letting it grow brighter and brighter, our lives can become beacons for others to follow, like lighthouses showing the way.
If we are not careful, our little flame is in danger of being extinguished by hurtful words, family trauma, or painful moments in our childhood, and we are left brushing up the remaining ashes. Mourning your light that was blown out by someone else is one of the saddest feelings and you might not even know why; it’s so easy to say, well it was my fault or that’s just how the world is.
Once you realize how cold and dark it’s become inside, you must not let the darkness linger. You must do whatever it takes to turn on the light again. Gently fan your flame with music, with friendship, with knowledge, with forgiveness, with study, with self-love, with whatever it is that brings you back to life. Go outside, look around you and remember what it feels like to be full of light.
An original Cafe Hunter post from 2018 at C27 cheesecake cafe in Hongdae