SUN
Something happened today
I kept thinking about how a lighthouse can remain useful even when the fog is thick. Its beam does not abolish the weather. It offers a reference point through it. That was important because I didn’t want my new appreciation of life to depend on difficult feelings disappearing forever.
There was a comfort in returning to the lighthouse without needing to make it a miracle. The fog wasn’t a mistake in the picture. It represented the conditions I would sometimes face: uncertainty, tiredness, disappointment, questions that hadn’t yet found an answer.
What I liked about the fog was that it belonged in the picture. It would have been dishonest to imagine that finding a guiding idea meant never again feeling lost, hurt, or tired. The lighthouse wasn't proof that life had become simple. It was a reminder that some useful reference points remain available even when my view is poor.
I could look for the next fact, the next person who might help, or the next manageable task. There might still be days when I could do little more than rest. The presence of uncertainty didn't cancel the possibility of direction. I didn't have to pretend the weather was fine in order to benefit from the light.
The fog image kept returning whenever I felt I was searching for an answer too large to see at once. I would like to know the destination. I would like to know which step is the clever one. But often I have only enough information to decide what to examine next.
I liked that a lighthouse doesn’t have to make grand speeches. It simply remains a reference point. The light’s usefulness isn’t diminished because it doesn’t control the weather. I began wondering whether I could offer myself that same steadiness when a project or relationship was uncertain.
The light didn’t need to make those conditions disappear in order to be useful. It could provide orientation while the difficulty remained. I liked that because it allowed me to have a bad day without declaring all the earlier discoveries invalid. A clue could still be present even when I wasn’t cheerful enough to appreciate it immediately. I didn’t have to manufacture gratitude. I could simply remember that the view might be limited without being entirely empty.
There would still be stress, disappointment and days when I felt unable to see very far. The discovery was that those conditions need not erase every clue. A little illumination could be real even when much remained hidden. I could appreciate the light without denying the fog.
