Monday, May 7, 2012

Light #2

Light #2

Diaspora (n): 

1876, from Greek, diaspora "dispersion," 
from diaspeirein "to scatter about, disperse,"
from dia- "about, across" + speirein "to scatter" (see sprout).

~


In Jewish mysticism, it is said that when God was pouring the first light into the vessels he made to contain it, the light was so hot, the vessels broke.

The light broke too and scattered across the face of the earth, waiting for humans to gather it and make it whole again.

I feel there is a strange connection between breaking, scattering and restoration.

I love the idea that it is only through our cracks and imperfections that the inner light can seep through.

I read a beautiful poem by Christian Wiman recently on the On Being blog called "Every Riven Thing". As the poet explains, riven means "broken, sundered, torn apart".

And that's the mystery. Because within our brokenness, inside our marrow - is the first light that was scattered, just waiting for us to recognize it, and gather it up.

This light is "in us" but not "of us" - in many ways it is:

"The Other, who reveals where you'll go
next. The stranger who should be welcome
in your home, for stranger may also be god."

~ Ruth Padel

So again, there is this paradox - between god and stranger, between what is sacred and what is feared/rejected/reviled. Our challenge is to welcome this fear (or ourselves, mainly) - and then to expose its divinity.

I think the trick is to learn to see ourselves as something remarkable and foreign rather than familiar and banal. And I think we learn see ourselves clearly by travelling.

We read books, listen to music from new places. We spread ourselves across different countries, houses, jobs, relationships. And in this scattering - diaspora - we sow a trail of seeds fed by "the warmth of other suns" (Isabel Wilkerson).

And it is, finally, these other suns that are in us too, filling our narrow bones with wonder - and finally, quietly, with recognition.

I see you
beneath the trees
unafraid of the darkness falling
- a lucid braille -
translating your body 
into light.