So, I had an illuminating conversation with an old friend at the Pub last night.  Places I was living by myself I suddenly find were lived in by someone else.  This is the kind of illumination I live for; or maybe I should say that illumination is what I live for. 

Finding the edges of God’s ideas and movements are just this kind of illumination, as is getting an unexpected loveletter, unexpected taste of something you loved that you had to give up for a while, unexpected gift.  I want gifts.  I totally feel like it’s a sign of health to be physically aching for enlightening, the slanting of light into a cave, the cave of the brain or heart or life. 

Last year at the retreat–Pickett State Park–we hiked to the Twin Arches and walked in the sand up through the mouth of the cavern and into the center of the rock.  I remembered it so well, how there were shafts of light falling from the crest of the arch and how I went into the cave by myself, sure as I always am that if I go ahead of the crowd I’ll find some slender white flames or long glistening shadows startling at the sound of my footsteps.  I always find something speaking.  This time–and this was this past Saturday–we went again and as I ran into the cave, I turned around and looked back the way I came, and there was the doorway in, illuminated.

Isn’t it funny that we forget that light enters our eyes through the smallest pupils–undilated, probably millimeters in diameter?  And all around that is darkness.  What if I’d telescoped it at the time and realized I was looking out of a cave out of a cave?  What if that hiccup, that gusset in time I felt when I was standing there looking out, was the most logical deja vu of all?  Or, probably all deja vu experiences are the most logical of all.  (Why, with all we experience and all we three-quarters forget, do we only feel that hiccup once in a while?  Weird.)

Sarah Smith from CS Lewis’s The Great Divorce is so often in my mind, these days.  I would consider her resurrected self to be exactly illuminated.  Along with all the momentum of her life.  I want that.  So, so much.  You just don’t even know.  I want a thousand and one things right now, with a thousand and one horsepower.  I wonder if things will calm down.  Although I almost hope not.