A Community of Lighthouses

A lighthouse has often been represented in literature, film, history, and culture as a guiding light, a safe harbor, a beacon of hope. Joseph Panek has described a lighthouse’s proximity to sea as an intentionality that warns sailors of potential dangers. A lighthouse “notifies sailors that land is near and warns them that they are approaching rocks, reefs and shallow waters which must be navigated with caution. [It] is also a comforting sign that the calm waters of a welcoming harbor are close at hand.” Lighthouses have been central figures in literature, in novels like To the Lighthouse by Virginia Wolf and The Light Between Oceans by M.L. Stedman, often symbolizing a guiding presence to all those voyaging or lost. This image of a lighthouse as a beacon of hope, a welcoming light, is a promise that solace and restoration are awaiting us when we reach dry land. Panek describes this comforting image of a lighthouse in its metaphorical sense, as “the element of Water represents the emotions, the Lighthouse is a Symbol for the Spiritual Strength and Emotional Guidance which is available to us during the times we feel we are being helplessly tossed around in a sea of inner turmoil.” In our lives, as we have sought these living images of lighthouses during our times of strife and trial, we have also become figures of hope and beacons of light for those in our lives undergoing trying circumstances. More often than not, we give of our energy and efforts in order to guide those we love to safe harbors. We expend our time, advice, thoughts, and feelings in order to guide our dear ones home, to safety and refuge. However, when we have spent our own emotions, when we have extended our own strength past what it is able to bear, the light in our lighthouse begins to dim, and we find that our guiding light may not be able to transcend beyond the shores of our own harbor. For this reason, it is essential that we take time to rest emotionally, that we actively seek out the people, places, circumstances, and practices that will refuel us and that will reignite our light so that we can continue to give off our luminescent energy and guiding light to all those around us. There are many ways that we can seek emotional rest in order to regain strength for ourselves and for those leaning on our strength. First, we should realize and accept that we will not always be a guiding light or a safe harbor for someone else. It is okay that we are not always the source of strength for someone else. It is okay if we are not the single lighthouse that guides everyone to a safe harbor. Once we relieve ourselves of the pressure to be the constant source of light, energy, and strength for every person in our lives, we may find that our light will not become dim, or its influence weak, but, rather, we may find that our light will beam brighter and that its scope will stretch farther than we could ever imagine. When we begin to rest, when we step down from being the emotional bearer, the allegiant advice-giver, or steadfast navigator, we will find time where we will be able to fan our own flame. In the difficulty of taking a step back, we will find beauty in realizing the force of our own light and the potential of our own strength. When we take instances and moments to rest in not being the lighthouse, we may find serenity in igniting our own flames and allowing our own lights to burn ever brighter. Once we take moments to step back, once we find time to rest and refuel, we will begin to seek out moments, places, and people that refuel us. When we take a step back from being the lighthouse, we may grow more comfortable in finding a lighthouse in someone else who will guide us to our safe harbor; we may be able to navigate beyond the walls and reserves that we have built up for ourselves, and we may see troubled waters grow calm. In seeking out a safe harbor in someone else we may ask ourselves: What fills us up? What reignites our fire? What keeps our flame alive? For some of us, we may be refueled by spending time with our closest friends, those who know us best and who are able to speak convictingly and intently into our lives. We may find a source of inspiration and strength in a long hike with a dear friend, a dinner date with close friends, or cherished time with family. For others of us, a period of rest and recharging our spirits entails a time of solitude, a long walk encountering nature, or some downtime with a good book. In any of these instances, though, we must become okay with abdicating our position as the lighthouse and the constant source of light for others in order that we may be able to find that light for ourselves in other people, places, instances, or things. When we revere this time of emotional rest for ourselves, we allow ourselves to refuel our passions, to regain our strength, and to reignite our light. Once we find strength in letting go, once we see newfound desires, inspiration, and hope in the midst of allowing others to shed their light on us, we will see our light spread further. Even still, in receiving the guiding light of others, we will begin to build and better maintain a collective light, a community of lighthouses whose luminosity casts its ever-flowing light to the ends of the earth.