Thursday, March 19, 2009

The light.

There is a light on top of Vanderbilt hospital. Its a beacon of white then red light to help guide the life flight helicopters to the roof. Its like a lighthouse at the edge of sea. It saves lives. Its a symbol of hope and fear. Its a light that says help is nearby, if only you can hold on.

I pass this light on my way home from work. I see it when I let my dog out. I see it out my window when I am sitting on my couch. I cant explain why I love this light so much. When I am quiet and thinking "why in Gods name am I here?" I look at the light and it calms me. I am reminded that I don't have it so bad. Many people fly towards that light and loose their battle with whatever has earned them a ride towards it. I am just searching for my purpose, not my next breath. I think of the people that save lives... not just the obvious doctors, but how we effect one another and inspire each other to hold on.

I think I am still holding on to something. Is it a "dream"? Is it my identity that has been lost behind what I think I am supposed to be at this age, at how I am supposed to look? Is it just simple sanity? 

Tonight I am sitting on my couch in the dark with my dog watching the rotation of the beacon. My light. 
I cant help but just hope.