They’re called blinds. Righty tighty, lefty loosey. We grab tightly and turn to the right, so the string that holds them together pulls so tightly that no light can come in. Yet, that’s not exactly how it happens is it? Even the cracks between them cannot hold the light that begs, even demands, to enter. When the dust has gathered long enough and the cool air accompanied by darkness has chilled us to the bone, we are moved to action.
We grab hold of the instrument that once kept the light out and turn in the opposite direction. Righty tighty, lefty loosey. The strings once pulled taught by our objection to the sun’s brilliance are now loosened in sweet release. The blinds lighten up and so does the inside. The dust once at rest is tossed into the air like flour in a bakery. We have changed our minds and thus rerouted the destination of the light’s warm glow.
Now, a name change is in order. What were once called blinds would now be more aptly described as tiny windows, for they allow us to see clearly into the world. The temperature begins to rise within and so our senses also rise to the occasion. The once gray world of an indoor domain is blasted by the illumination of full Technicolor. Blues are bluer and greens are greener. Though we may choose to dim the light by adjusting them again, things will never be the same. We have seen too much.
So, each day we arise and choose to let sunlight shine or darkness depress. The clouds may cloak the sun and we may not always feel the warmth, but the fire continues to burn. Will we keep the blinds open on days of rain or twist tightly in darkness, refusing to acknowledge what we cannot see? Will we hope for what’s beyond our vision or let our memories slip into the dull pattern of forgetfulness? Rise, turn, shine and believe.