When The Light Comes

I just like the way the sunlight shines in this picture. It’s through an east facing window in my living room. I’d say the sun is particularly low, casting long shadows, but this is just the mid day angle of light at this time of year where I live.

I also just like the artifacts in this picture. Most everything I have has a story. I love the way the sun shining reminds me of some of these stories.

The large stone on the left from my son Elijah’s first overnight camping trip. Just me and my boys that night, near a lake, cooking foil dinners over open fire and then snuggling in our tent.

The Santa wood carvings given to me ten years ago by my parents. They always seemed to know how to offer just the right dose of home and Canada.

The angel given me to remind of a trip to Zimbabwe in the early 2000s. The books about mindful living, and New Zealand, and birds of Utah.

The pine cone from a winter walk in my neighborhood, down Lakeview Road. The maple leaf ceramic given to me by a Canadian colleague 15 years ago after some work. The Norfolk Pine that appears only slightly as plant and mostly as shadow.

Snapshots, made ever so convenient with the camera function available in smart phones, that reveal a couple of handfuls of stories — I love this. It’s how I love interacting with others. “Ah, does this ….. have a story? Can you share it with me.” Followed by, “Ah, that takes me back to a story in my life ….. May I share it with you?”

This is one of the primary ways that we humans share and create light together, no? How we share and create connection and meaning together, no? How we journey together, no?

In stories, of even the simple things, brought to light.

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