You know, today has been strange. It’s been like every other day, but somehow it feels different. The day started off pretty average, I woke up to the sun shining and the birds singing. But this afternoon when I looked into the mirror, something changed. For just one small moment when I was looking into the mirror, I saw straight into my own soul. In the glass, I saw a girl, just on the precipice of becoming an adult, who was beautiful, inside and out. It was kind of like something had suddenly been lit up inside of me. Like a beautiful candle had been given a spark, and that spark had somehow grown into a bright, orange flame.
In the days of the underground railway, people who were willing to allow the runaway slaves to stay in their house would leave a candle burning in their window. It was a sign to those who felt they had no hope, no home, and no heart left that there was someone who was willing to help. I can only imagine the feeling that it brought a lost soul to see a light shining so brightly through the window of a beautiful house. It was the difference between life and death, the oasis that the wanderers had been looking for. I think the feeling would be similar to when something overwhelms you so much that you forget all sense of direction and time, and you just exist at that point in space. But this kind of life, it’s a happy existence, a wonderfully free and liberated reality.
I’ve come to realize over my few short years that there isn’t always going to be another place where you can find that candle burning. I know now that the safe light has to come from inside. There is no one who knows you better than yourself. That is a fact. Relying on others is something that we often put too much faith in, hoping that they will always be around when we are in need of the light. When I looked into the mirror today, I realized that we can rely on our own lights. We can rely on our own candles.
It’s impossible to know whether or not the shine that I saw from within me was something that had always been there. I would like to think that my candle has always been burning. (cont page 2)
In the days of the underground railway, people who were willing to allow the runaway slaves to stay in their house would leave a candle burning in their window. It was a sign to those who felt they had no hope, no home, and no heart left that there was someone who was willing to help. I can only imagine the feeling that it brought a lost soul to see a light shining so brightly through the window of a beautiful house. It was the difference between life and death, the oasis that the wanderers had been looking for. I think the feeling would be similar to when something overwhelms you so much that you forget all sense of direction and time, and you just exist at that point in space. But this kind of life, it’s a happy existence, a wonderfully free and liberated reality.
I’ve come to realize over my few short years that there isn’t always going to be another place where you can find that candle burning. I know now that the safe light has to come from inside. There is no one who knows you better than yourself. That is a fact. Relying on others is something that we often put too much faith in, hoping that they will always be around when we are in need of the light. When I looked into the mirror today, I realized that we can rely on our own lights. We can rely on our own candles.
It’s impossible to know whether or not the shine that I saw from within me was something that had always been there. I would like to think that my candle has always been burning. (cont page 2)
