Where Light Meets Knowing
There are seasons in a life when light comes so generously, so lavishly, that it spills over the edges of awareness and softens every contour of discernment. In such moments, the heart opens like a meadow in early summer—unguarded, radiant, and wide with welcome. Everything seems trustworthy then. The world wears a kind face. Even the shadows appear tender, as though they, too, belong to the great harmony. And so we lean forward without hesitation. We step without measuring the ground. We drink deeply without asking what has been poured into the cup. There is an innocence in such hours, and a beauty that cannot be dismissed. To feel joy is to be lifted beyond the narrow walls of fear, to glimpse a wider horizon where the soul remembers its belonging. Yet there is also a quiet forgetting that can accompany such brightness—a forgetting of edges, of thresholds, of the subtle art of listening for what does not immediately sing. Joy, in its fullness, can sometimes dazzle the inner eye...
