Gratitude and the Frequency of Light
Lauren Mantecon, Mingle, mixed media and oil on panels, 42x37, 2019
My partner Steve is a man of few words. He is practical, grounded, and laconic by nature.
So, when he leaned in close at 4:00am one morning to whisper his advice- I listened.
It was if he could hear what I was thinking as I stared into the shadows moving along the wall. As I watched a deep indigo float to subtle grey- the thoughts grew louder. They were ping ponging with bleakness, despair and drama, overwhelming me with what ifs and stories of a raveled, tangled past undone.
He said:
“If you find yourself in the dark, go light a candle.”
Since he whispered those words, I have come to discover they have their roots in an
old Chinese proverb:
"Better to light a candle than curse the darkness.”
In following the wisdom of my beloved and the Chinese ancients, I did just that. I fumbled my way to the kitchen, and in ritualistic style placed a single candle on an empty kitchen table and lit a match.
I could not help but to laugh out loud at the simplicity, absurdity and brilliance of the moment.
The achromatic shadows began to transform - a slow pull towards a warm shimmer. A plume of smoke - grey, purple, white with an effervescent glow.
A synthesis of light.
Suddenly I was overcome with tremendous gratitude.
I did not want the feeling to dissipate. I wanted it to stay with me like a wave over shore line - humbled by the complexity of the land.
Gratitude. In large or small doses it does not matter - gratitude can alleviate the looming shadows.
Here is my short gratitude list -the places where the flickering light in the darkness reminds me of who and what I am.
What is on your list?
pink clouds
organic cotton
my two legs that can take me down my stairs and out my door
the aroma of coffee
monsoons where wet meets dry, electrifying land and air
my studio overflowing with boxes of uncapped paint- beckoning
musings on the mysterious unknown universe
dappling sunlight on the bottom of an outdoor pool while swimming
summer gardens
horizon line ascending into midnight blue as day turns to night
trees large and small
rocking chairs
The magnetic pull of “place”
belonging
golden light
the infectious resonance of emotional grace
And the soft spoken words from a partner when coming out of the dark:
“You have an eye and you have a heart and those are two really good places to start.”
Thanks for reading,
