light

This tiny sliver of sea glass was nestled into a tangle of debris that was tossed ashore during a recent storm. I would’ve walked past it, had it not winked up at me. Showy little thing, it reflected sunlight instead of sinking into the detritus.

I gently scooped it into a seashell, smoothing my fingers over its cool, smooth edges before tucking it into my pocket. In my mind’s eye, I’d already stamped and mailed it off to a special someone who needed a little pick-me-up. But in that moment, I matched my footprints with the incoming waves, filled with the quiet glow that comes of stretching my limbs and breathing deep the cool, fresh air.

Ours for savoring and sharing: these shimmering moments in time. Even in the dark, Nature sprinkles a special brand of magic: Who among us hasn’t been wowed by the silvery moon and starlight? No doubt, we’ll encounter obstacles. We’ll slip and sometimes fall. (Just last week, for instance, I tumbled backward over a seawall. But oh, it was worth it, because I spied an octopus in a shimmering tide pool, on the other side of that ridge.)

I’m thinking about that serendipitous walk again this morning, thinking also about that sea glass heart, a symbol of the affection that flows so easily between friends.  Too, I’m thinking how we can radiate that love into the wider world–candles glowing in our front windows, engaging smiles that light up a room. This, I believe, is the hard/heart work that we are called to do.