The Lighthouse

I have often fantasised about living in a lighthouse. There is a definite allure with the isolation and solitude it offers. However, I am also drawn to the idea of bearing witness to a battle that is aeons old: the claim for dominance between terra firma, and the sea. One is fixed, rigid, and constant, whilst the other’s capricious nature yields, accommodates, explores, but also holds violent, powerful potential.

I imagine the exhilaration watching from above, furious waves railing against the land’s implacable nature, whilst feeling safe from harm within my own lighthouse of solid, grounded protection.

However, the purpose of a lighthouse is to offer orientation and a point of reference for travellers on turbulent waters. I try and imagine the sense of desperation, confusion and fear for sailors navigating through the night in dark, angry storms. I wonder what it must feel like when, just as all thought of hope is lost, through that stinging rain and roaring storm, you spot a piercing shaft of light. That beacon, that solitary building on a precipice between two worlds offers guidance and hope to all those at risk of drowning.

I wonder about my own inner conflicts, and the battles for dominance. I think of my mindfulness practice like the lighthouse; it offers sanctuary, grounding, and a beacon of hope when I am tossed about like a dandelion seed in the wind.

I hope that may be one day, I will feel the gentle ripples of thoughts and emotions lapping against the shores of my mind, with the occasional storm I can witness inside my lighthouse sanctuary knowing, it too will pass. I hope that may be one day, my lighthouse could also become a beacon for other lost souls, frightened and confused.