Yesterday marked the first day of the Hindu festival of Diwali. Although
there appear to be several legends
associated with the tradition of Diwali, they mostly revolve around the triumph
of righteousness over evil, of light over darkness. Thus it’s appropriate that
the focus should be on lights—oil lamps, candles and (so I hear) neon
lights among the nouveau
riche. (Diwali marks the end of a month of prep; I’m told there’s been a
lot of dancing at temples, and tonight big family meals with emphasis
on Indian sweets.)
I learned about Diwali when I moved to the Valley They Call Silicon. Since I was struggling with driving back the dark, I glommed onto
it like limpets on a rock. Last night I again massed candles to drive back all
manner of dark things. Not only do I like the soft light that groups of candles
give off, the very act of lighting them one at a time and nursing along some of
the ones at the end of their life slows me down. It calms me
down.
Filling a room with candle
light takes time; you can’t flip a switch and move on to the next task on your
to-do list. And if you’re lighting those floating jobbers, you have to be very
focused on not disturbing the water, because then it dowses the flames and you
have to wipe them off and start over again.
It’s like the
count-breaths-to-21 methodology of meditation: if you lose count because your
monkey mind is distracted, you have to begin again from one.
There are some days I never
make it into double digits.
But there’s something about
knowing how happy the moving lights will make me that enables me to persevere
with candles. I light them, sit back and watch; and for at least a few minutes
the world around me is peaceful and full of hope. Light prevails over darkness,
love conquers fear, and good triumphs over evil.
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