To the Lighthouse
Our Beacon to Inner Wisdom
Spending time on a rocky and often foggy coast brings a deeper understanding of the power of the lighthouse. The slowly revolving beacon serves both as a warning to pay attention, and as a symbol of an intrinsic caring for our well-being.
Every time I see a lighthouse, I can sense the steady and humble presence of the lightkeeper on watch. I imagine the depth of connection they felt to the sea and those that travel upon it. I am also struck by what may emerge from the darkness if we focus our light of attention on it.
Looking Through the Window
After our journey to Eagle Island, we entered a season of family and friends both old and new. To facilitate many of these connections, we left idyllic nature and journeyed to the comparatively big city of Portland, Maine. While out wandering, my son and I stumbled upon our first lighthouse – Breakwater Light which is nicknamed Bug Light.
This ridiculously cute and tiny little lighthouse was a sign of what was to come. The light was out and it was nothing more than an idle curiosity. It seemed to mimic the way I was feeling as I entered back into the city and civilization and all of its discontents. There was a forgetting and a foregoing of my deeper connection to nature and those around me.
Time went by like a choppy, rolling sea as people and places bobbed in and out of my consciousness. I did not seem to have a beacon calling me back, as if I was merely witnessing life. And though the company was beautiful and the experiences were delightful, there was something missing and it was me.
Time Passes
It is not as if nothing happened during this period, it just happened without any mindfulness. This state continued on until the light was re-lit and I was called back. And what called me back? This time it was possibly the cutest birds in existence – Atlantic Puffins.
When we first arrived in Maine, I was dreamily reading information about the Maine Birding Trail. While perusing the section that covered the northern coast, I noticed that there were puffin tours. I immediately reached out to the company that offered them near Jonesport, where we were staying, and found they were completely booked for the summer.
The thought of puffins kept bringing me back to consciousness like an inner alarm clock. I never acted, but I remembered. And so while in a personally deep fog, when the puffin popped up in my mind, I saw the light and was called back to attention. I hunted down a new puffin tour, this time embarking from Boothbay Harbor, and booked two spots for my son and I.
I truly was just going through the motions until we first came into sight of Eastern Egg Rock. There we hundreds of laughing gulls circling in the sky screaming out and I came alive. As I did the first puffin came into view. I was in love! We saw dozens of puffins swimming together in groups called rafts, playing or relaxing on the island, or flap flap flapping their wings to carry their awkward little bodies in flight. It was magical. I was once again here.
On our way back to shore, the crew of the boat made a wide circle so that we could see all of the lighthouses of Boothbay Harbor. Seeing the active lighthouses felt symbolic of the feeling of the light coming on back inside of me. I caught a view of what had me in peril and felt the humility of awareness and a reconnection to those around me.
The Lighthouse
After our time in civilization, we headed back out to the wilds and a sweet campground near Pemaquid Point. This area is famous for the most iconic lighthouse in Maine. Being in the presence of myself and the lighthouse was a real gift. After the fog of forgetting and the call back to myself, it now felt as though I was more deeply connected to not only the outer world, but also my inner world.
Those five days were filled with a depth of connection to my family, nature and myself. We swam at magical beaches, cavorted and played in epic tide pools, discovered secret coves, and got a close up view of the iconic lighthouse. I felt more alive and more awake than I had in a long time. And that state persisted throughout without effort because of my efforts.
The call of the lighthouse not only kept me from crashing into the rocky shore, it also called me deeper to a state of consciousness that may always be available but often seems lost in the fog.