This morning I found a blog that I had started and titled, In View of the Lighthouse in September 2009. At the time, I was a third-year tenure-track professor teaching qualitative research classes; a dream come true. In one of my entries I wrote, observations of life experiences must be rooted in a credible, self-reflecting voice from a writer who self-examines. Goodall (2000) captured this idea when he wrote, “In life’s conversations, whom do you trust - the person who never discloses her or his own feelings, who has no interesting life stories to offer in exchange for the details of yours? Or do you trust the person who emerges in the talk as someone living in a passionate and reflective life, someone willing to share with you its joys, its pain, its speculations, its ambiguities?” (p. 23).
The summer I was twelve my father drove our family up the New England coast to Bar Harbor, Maine. This is where I discovered lighthouses; round, gray stone buildings that jutted out of the rocks along the coast with a 360-degree view from the glass windows around the top hexagon tier. The metaphorical image of the lighthouse being a beacon of light in the worst storms has resonated for me ever since.
If a beacon of light can shine through the fog and sheets of rain, one can feel safe in the darkness of any night. Metaphorically, we can feel lost in pitch dark at various times in our life. When I am unclear as to what direction to take in my life if I remember to look for my inner light.
Recently, my meditation teacher, Diana, shared another perspective to my life-long fascination with lighthouses. She shared that to be a lighthouse, you must stand on the shore and shine your own light. A light house does not follow the boat and go out to where the storm is. Instead, the lighthouse light keeps shining regardless of what chaos exists around them.
I lost sight of my own lighthouse a few times this past autumn. I was trying to figure out my new normal as a “retired” professor - now consultant. As a result, I overpacked my schedule and was in a state of overthinking which only led to writing paralysis. I made my way through the discomfort of the storm and discovered an upgrade in the transformative process of reflecting and examining what I liked and didn’t like about my less than “magical everyday living.”
My inner storm has quieted, I have shifted my focus, the fog has lifted, and my inner lighthouse is still there. I have always appreciated the metaphor of a lighthouse. To be a lighthouse, you must stand on the shore and shine your light. A lighthouse does not go out to where the storm is. Instead, the lighthouse light keeps shining regardless of what chaos exists around them.
Photo by Nathan Jennings on Unsplash
Beautifully written. I love the image of a lighthouse, lit from within. Not dependent on the external world for validation. A lighthouse never suffers from imposter syndrome. It just is.
I enjoyed every word. Glad to see you posting again. “ the lighthouse light keeps shining regardless of what chaos exists around them.” Keep shining, Laura.