It’s funny how people, myself included, say “I can see nothing but utter darkness” or ” I can only see darkness all around me”-
-when really, darkness is the absence of light, it’s nothingness, and you can’t actually see darkness if it’s nothing, can you. How can you see nothingness?
Yet, in the day, when everything is bright and sunny and gleaming, we point out all the beautiful, beautiful things we see- the sun, trees, clouds, homes- but we hardly remember that all we see is because of our world honey-soaked in glorious, glorious golden Sunshine. I’ve heard far fewer exclaim, “I can see the Sunshine!”
Because well, in reality, we can’t, not most of the time at least. We can see the sun, but hardly Sunshine.
We talk about the things we see, only trust what our eyes can pick up, put our hopes on that which we can identify with our eyes. But we forget, that night comes inevitably and then darkness, and nothingness descends upon us.
Why do we not see-that there is no security in what we can see because of their potential ability to turn to nothingness. Why do we forget that the most important things in life- things that give us the ability to see everything else, to know the truth of truths, to love- like Sunshine, are more often than not, things we cannot see.
What is beautiful, and important, is what the eye cannot see.
Sunshine illuminates the truth, it gives us hope, joy and life. Yet, all we do is take pleasure in the things illuminated by it, and not itself. It is only in the darkness that we find ourselves whining, pining for that which we took for granted, everyday.
It is all around us, and yet we fail to see it. We only acknowledge the things it illuminates, and forget the illumination itself.
Perhaps, just perhaps, God is like Sunshine, too-
-all around us, taken for granted, the source and energy of our everyday lives, the reason for our everything and yet appearing as nothing.
What do you see when you see the bloom of fresh flowers growing by the windowsill; what do you feel when a child wraps his arms decadently around your waist and buries his head in your tummy; what do you smell when you’re giving food away to the hungry; what do you hear when you listen to good poetry, passionately read. Is there something other than heat that you feel, hear, smell, see when the Sunshine falls on your tired face?
Secret Sunshine.
For what is important, is what the eye cannot see.
