I once knew a woman who glowed like the sun. She almost always had gold white light around her that was frequently visible even in mid day sunlight. She was exquisite.
One night I had a dream about her. In the dream I was standing beside an entryway to a world of very bright clear light, and I was inviting the woman to come into the light with me. I said to her, “Come with me. I want to show you my home.” She pulled away saying, “It’s too bright. It’s too bright. I can’t go in there.” And she ran away. As she ran I called to her that she should take her time and that she was welcome whenever she decided to return.
I watched her run away until she came across a large patchwork quilt, which she dove under in an attempt to hide from the bright light. As I looked at the quilt I realized that it was made up of all the pieces of her life: she was using her life to hide from the light. And yet she is a very bright being who glows with gold white light, the same light that she is running from. The same light that she is hiding from under the patchwork quilt of her life.
And that broke my heart. It broke my heart because she doesn’t recognize that what she is running and hiding from is what she herself is. She is running and hiding from her own brightness. And it broke my heart because, for me, one single particle of that bright light, one photon of it, is worth more than all of creation — and the woman had run from it, had run from what I value most above all else.
What’s both sad and hopeful is that the woman will have to come back to the light. She has nowhere else to go. At her core she has a sadness and an emptiness that she keeps trying to fill with her life, but nothing really works. And nothing will work because the only thing to fill that emptiness and heal that sadness is the light from which she now hides.