Dear Subscriber,

It’s been a dark time for many, that’s for sure. Twilight around here, too, over the last six months, especially. Several PCI staff and their families battling COVID, another team member dealing with a serious illness, and me, offering what help I can, filling in, trying to keep up with obligations, while taking time each day to intentionally ignore the to-do lists so I can experience that “paradox of self-care” I encourage our students to do during Course One of their parent coach training. And most days not doing a very good job at any of it!

I think you can relate: Over this past year, little has been easy. Yet, a lot has felt more profoundly significant. Dark times have a way of shoving the trivial out of the way to put what is most meaningful at the head of the line. Yet, the dark keeps rearing its ugly head. 

It seems that these times call us to hold both the good and the no-so-good in our heads, hearts, our mornings and nights—constantly. I feel at times like a ping-pong ball, batted around between dark and light; light and dark.  Dickens pretty much sums it up well in the beginning of a A Tale of Two Cities:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way…”

A few weeks ago, I was entangled in the “season of darkness.”  I was definitely going “the other way,” unsure “the spring of hope” had a place at my table. Then a friend said something in passing—nothing big at all—a slight comment that became a proverbial light-bulb moment for me. She said:

“Seeds actually need darkness to grow.”

Of course! They can’t grow any other way—they must be surrounded in darkness. She brough much Light to me with this life-saving metaphor. I pondered…

We put seeds in the ground, surrounded by blackness and we know they will sprout. In fact, there is absolutely no doubt in our minds about this natural progression. But here’s the catch: They will form shoots reaching out to the sun, only if their dark cave provides the nurturance to do so—the right amount of food, the water they can’t grow without.

So, now I am asking myself during the darker of dark times…

What seeds inside of me actually need darkness to grow?

What accompanying nurturance must also be present for that growth to take place?

This little practice is also helping me keep those seeds in the darkness and not out in the open where they will surely die. I am letting them be alone more often. They are secure in their darkness, so why fuss over them, as long as I am giving them the nurturance they need? And here’s where the Light comes in. I actually need needs regular doses of Light myself to have the capacity to nurture my seeds in the dark. 

With my Light, I can hold those precious seeds in the dark where they belong. While, I turn more of my attention to the Light around me, I re-discover all the goodness of the people I know and love—the hundreds of things to grateful for—the tremendous abundance of Good inherent in living day-to-day. (Ah…deep breath and relief!)

Nurturing my seeds with the Light around me, as they grow in the darkness, allows me to recognize and welcome the Light much more often. I actually need the Light to keep my seeds in their darkness so they will grow!

I came to this peaceful realization on a day I encountered a beautiful story by the writer, Elizabeth Gilbert, on my Facebook feed. Perhaps you have seen it? I find it inspiring, and hope you will as well, —a great reminder of how we can be the Light for others in small ways, and yet, how powerful that can be. (Like my friend’s comment about the seeds needing dark was for me!) 

Wishing you a vibrant and meaningful holiday season!

A True Story by Elizabeth Gilbert

“Some years ago, I was stuck on a crosstown bus in New York City during rush hour. Traffic was barely moving. The bus was filled with cold, tired people who were deeply irritated with one another, with the world itself. Two men barked at each other about a shove that might or might not have been intentional. A pregnant woman got on, and nobody offered her a seat. Rage was in the air; no mercy would be found here.

But as the bus approached Seventh Avenue, the driver got on the intercom. “Folks,” he said, “I know you have had a rough day and you are frustrated. I can’t do anything about the weather or traffic, but here is what I can do. As each one of you gets off the bus, I will reach out my hand to you. As you walk by, drop your troubles into the palm of my hand, okay? Don’t take your problems home to your families tonight, just leave them with me. My route goes right by the Hudson River, and when I drive by there later, I will open the window and throw your troubles in the water.”

It was as if a spell had lifted. Everyone burst out laughing. Faces gleamed with surprised delight. People who had been pretending for the past hour not to notice each other’s existence were suddenly grinning at each other like, is this guy serious?

Oh, he was serious.

At the next stop, just as promised, the driver reached out his hand, palm up, and waited. One by one, all the exiting commuters placed their hand just above his and mimed the gesture of dropping something into his palm. Some people laughed as they did this, some teared up but everyone did it. The driver repeated the same lovely ritual at the next stop, too. And the next. All the way to the river.

We live in a hard world, my friends. Sometimes it is extra difficult to be a human being. Sometimes you have a bad day. Sometimes you have a bad day that lasts for several years. You struggle and fail. You lose jobs, money, friends, faith, and love. You witness horrible events unfolding in the news, and you become fearful and withdrawn. There are times when everything seems cloaked in darkness. You long for the light but don’t know where to find it.

But what if you are the light? What if you are the very agent of illumination that a dark situation begs for?. That’s what this bus driver taught me, that anyone can be the light, at any moment. This guy wasn’t some big power player. He wasn’t a spiritual leader. He wasn’t some media-savvy influencer. He was a bus driver, one of society’s most invisible workers. But he possessed real power, and he used it beautifully for our benefit.

When life feels especially grim, or when I feel particularly powerless in the face of the world’s troubles, I think of this man and ask myself, What can I do, right now, to be the light? Of course, I can’t personally end all wars, or solve global warming, or transform vexing people into entirely different creatures. I definitely can’t control traffic. But I do have some influence on everyone I brush up against, even if we never speak or learn each other’s name. 

No matter who you are, or where you are, or how mundane or tough your situation may seem, I believe you can illuminate your world. In fact, I believe this is the only way the world will ever be illuminated, one bright act of grace at a time, all the way to the river.”