LET THERE BE LIGHT
Nov. 29,2023
“On March 15, 1667, Louis XIV made Gabriel Nicolas de la Reynie the Lieutenant General of Police, entrusting him with the task of making Paris more safe. In addition to quadrupling the number of policemen in the city, one of the measures was to install more lighting. Lanterns were placed on almost every main street and residents were asked to light their windows with candles and oil lamps. The idea was to prevent lawbreakers from dodging the police or hiding in dark alleys, therefore reducing the crime rate. From here on, the city gained the nickname La Ville-Lumière (‘The City of Light’).” (Culture Trip Tours website)
After a hectic but ultimately fulfilling day, packed with information that was too dense to process at bedtime, I went on Amazon and bought the first escapist book, $2.99 on Kindle, that I could find — the hook being the word “Paris” in the title — which at least promised some daydream-worthy descriptions of the ‘City of Light’ and ‘Love’.
Indeed, proving that age is a state of mind, the lovelorn, thirty-five year old protagonist begins the prologue with: “The only thing worse than having a mid-life crisis is finding out about it from your dad”, and who, having thus self-diagnosed, concludes with: “I felt about a hundred years old”…”A withering antique, dusty from lack of use and no longer relevant. That was the day I decided to go to Paris.”
Always keen on escapism, I woke at 4:00 a.m. the following morning, pondering Paris’s appeal to generations of seekers and dreamers. I was particularly curious about its universal association with Light, as Light and its symbolism feature prominently in the yogic teachings. The Culture Trip quote continues with:
“From the late 18th century to the 19th century, the city of Paris became increasingly known as a centre of education and ideas throughout the whole of Europe, inspiring poets, philosophers, engineers and scientists galore. As well as the gradual increase in wattage, this context of innovation and enlightenment is what helped reinforce the symbolic significance of Paris as ‘The City of Light’.”
(Further digging revealed less salutary connotations for how Paris became known as the City of Love. Due to various socio-economic factors in mid-to-late 18th century Paris, prostitution was rampant, so much so that the label “City of Love” became a cynical epithet for what was actually considered the Brothel of Europe. But that’s for another blog. Or never.)
How is this relevant to my theme of “leading an examined life”? Because who isn’t looking for a haven of light and love? Add peace, hope and joy to the mix and we have our wish list for Christmas. But it’s not surprising that, depending on our circumstances, the holiday season can intensify a sense of grief and loss, despite the promise of sugar plum fairies and grög. The pressure to exude comfort and joy can be daunting for those struggling with any number of difficulties. Long chilly nights and short gray days can evoke Paris in its unenlightened age. Like the thieves who stalked her too-dark city streets, a mind burdened with too many concerns needs a source of illumination to recognize and transcend thoughts that rob one of energy and momentum.
For me, illumination comes from tracking my footprints in my journal, and then, via spiritual practice (mantra, meditation, dream work, Light invocations), surrendering these cares to a higher intelligence or energy — my divine committee. Reviewing my journal helps identify the traps I set for myself, and then mindfully loosen negative thought patterns and habits that create a sense of discontent.
As you know, my personal (and minor) loss has been that of mobility; which my imagination tells me will be compounded by trying to celebrate the holidays in Whistler as we have done for the last twenty plus years. The multiple steps up to our cabin, likely coated with ice and snow, are apt to pose a challenge. As will gift shopping, provisioning, cooking, and getting any type of exercise. First world problems all, I nonetheless struggle with a feeling of impotence, of identifying with the protagonist’s self-description: “a withering antique, dusty from lack of use and no longer relevant”.
Such are the rabbit holes I can fall into without the yogic tools I have been focusing on in these blogs. I remind myself of what Swami Radhananda wrote in the introduction to the yoga of healing, which is an excellent guide to ‘enlightening’ the senses, one’s windows of perception:
“Yoga brings us to wholeness. The benefit of coming into health and wholeness through self-awareness is that we stop being just a body — needy, grasping, selfish — and become a living being in the process of gaining wisdom and compassion. This is where we need to develop faith and devotion to seriously be involved with subtle lightness of being. When you do everything in your power to keep your focus on the Light, and bring Light to each person in your life, then you are being responsible for your health and having a positive effect on others. The more positive view we have, the more positive effects we can have on the world around us.”
It takes effort to flip negative thoughts into positives, to change knee-jerk reactions that no longer serve me into considered responses. But it’s worth it. Just as, seen in another light, my lack of mobility can be a not-so-hidden blessing. I can let others take on my “traditional” stress-inducing roles while I sit back and relax by the fire with our grandchildren! Bring on the sugar plums and grög!
PS There aren’t actually two dots over the ‘o’ in grog, but I think there should be.