On Love and Light

I leaned my head back against the the oversized recliner, easing into the luxury experience of a heated massage chair making magic on the tired muscles of my back. The beautiful aesthetician gently lowered my feet, first one and then the other, into the swirling pool of warm water. I would spend the next hour indulging my feet by way of this birthday present from friends. And by way of relaxation I would also be indulging my soul.

I love to have my feet rubbed. Almost nothing compares to the experience for me. It makes me feel completely comforted and loved. Adored even. It is easy to find the source for that feeling. After hours-long rehearsals with bare feet and muscles aching, I would return home to the strong and steady hands of my Daddy. He in turn would spend hours undoing the knots and soothing the pains of this young dancer's body. It was heaven in the experience and is still heaven in the memory of it.

So still it happens that every once in a very great while I treat myself to this very indulgence--an hour in foot rubbing heaven. They are not my Dad's hands, but still they will do. I made the appointment, carried my gift certificate into the Aveda salon, and parked myself in the chair.

As I drifted in and out of the bliss of extravagance, I chatted with the girl at my feet as she rubbed, and scrubbed, and scraped, and dipped, returning my feet to a state of baby-bottom smoothness. And by association melted my stress level to zero.

When the pedicure was complete, but before the happy pink polish on my toes was dry, the technician left me on my own. And with my small cup of strong Dutch coffee as company, I settled in for some quiet reflection time.

That's when it caught my eye.

A wall hanging in the corner of the salon, dyed in black and red with some characters (Chinese?) printed at the top and the bottom of the fabric. Between the characters, this quote:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God; your playing small doesn't serve the world.

There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.

It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.

And as we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

~NELSON MANDELA, inaugural speech, 1994*

Of course, I immediately grabbed the notebook from my purse and scribbled it down.

And I have spent days reflecting upon it.

My first instinct was to simply post the quote here at my blog page and let the discussion take its course.
But I wanted to say my piece as well. After all, the masthead on this blog is my declaration that I have something to say. So really, how could I pass on making a comment of my own?

In honesty, words like these hardly need the support of my own to punch them home. I wonder just how amazing it would be to think so clearly and to speak so succinctly that my words could be worthy of a wall hanging. Alas, my brain doesn't work quite that cleanly.

But I deeply appreciate the thoughts of those whose do.

And this person, these words, this quote, is worthy of reflection. It is right that a quote like this should take your breath away and cause you to pause, ponder and search.

This is truth and beauty. We are each such remarkable creatures, and to feel or state otherwise is to make mockery of the miracle we are. The miracle life is. Or could be if we believed in it.

I have reflected before about the joy of discovering that this world is full of goodness and sweetness and good, good people. In spite of the ugliness that I know is there, I like to focus on the beauty which stands in its shadow. And I like to believe that this very beauty could ultimately triumph.

Allow me to expound.

Ever since I posted my wish list about the "things" we miss from the United States I have been blown away by the outpouring of generosity from friends and strangers new friends offering to fill in the gaps for us. Tenderly written words of encouragement and support as well as offers to send over comfort foods, books, and special treats have arrived at my inbox. Also the exceptionally generous offer from an in-country reader, to drive across Holland to our home, bearing gifts for me. Reading gifts!

I am overwhelmed. Truly. Overwhelmed isn't even the right word.
Touched. Moved. Humbled. Amazed. Astounded. Dazed. Blessed.
Maybe there isn't a word to sum up my feelings of gratitude and awe, but I see the entire experience as, yet again, an affirmation of the goodness of humanity.

I see your light shining.

And I thank you all from the bottom of my very full heart.

Now, discuss amongst yourselves.

*UPDATE to give credit where credit is due. It was pointed out to me by a dear friend and regular reader (Hi M!) that the actual author of this quote is Marianne Williamson, not Mr. Mandela. The research I did points perhaps to the film Akeelah and the Bee as the first redirection of the source as in the film these words are attributed to Mandela. . It seems since then it has taken it's own course, since this wall hanging I saw was clearly attributed in dyed ink to Nelson Mandela. Not that the authorship calls into question at all the power of the words.
~jenn