Adventures in aging with intention

An Invitation To Claim Your Light

It feels good to be a light.

Those moments when our radiance can’t help but escape, like a lighthouse sharing its purpose, just because.

I’ve come to know it arrives exactly when it’s supposed to. When an open heart grants it a space to fill — a presence where our inner and outer experience become one. We light up. A rare occurrence of alignment, yes. But also, a reveal of what’s available all along. Simply if we let it.

Last weekend I ran (more like slowly trotted) in a 10K race in my community. That’s when my light found me.

Got up at 5am, pinned my race number on my shirt, drove in darkness to put the finishing touches on our “Inspiration Station” booth we had set up at the finish line the night before, scarfed down a banana and headed to the starting line to join the sea of runners, each of us owning our personal journeys just as the sun was awakening the green hills with a hello.

I felt excited and nervous and overjoyed and responsible and proud of myself for the many choices that led to this moment where everything was happening so fully, all at once. You could feel a collective aliveness, contagious in anticipation. It swelled into silence when a vocalist started singing our national anthem. Then we were off!

A light.

The seed of this experience was planted five months ago when I went to the minister of my New Thought Now spiritual center saying, “we should do this.” Now here we were side by side at the starting line — he’s 71 and I’m 68. We’d even created t-shirts for this occasion with a motivational message on the back… DO YOU KNOW HOW GREAT YOU ARE? Other members of our community were running in various distance races too, and even more were volunteering at a booth we were hosting at the finish line, giving away free messages of inspiration. Kind of a full circle love in action vibe that began with a choice, an idea to show up as love and see what happens.

I had no idea that…

At mile one, I’d come down the hill attempting to settle into my pace within a multitude of colors, shapes, sizes and ages, only to find myself laughing. There above me (during a prime hunting window mind you) was a magnificent hawk perched on the streetlamp, simply gazing at the herd of humanity going by. I would be that curious hawk if I was a bird. I felt one with the morning sun on these incredible hills sprinkled with yellow golden dust. And I loved this moment with me in it. A light.

I had no idea that…

At mile three I would be transported back to a frosty New Year’s Eve in 1982 as James Ingram’s “Yah Mo Be There” came on from the playlist my daughter curated for me. I was performing with Ice Capades at the time and I took my skates from the venue and snuck onto the frozen ponds of the Boston Commons at midnight — skating outdoors for the first time in my life, sipping Grand Marnier from a bota bag, blasting that song on my nifty high-tech Walkman. I relived it so vividly. A light.

I had no idea that…

At mile five my thoughts would bring me back to my childhood to reflect upon what it felt like to be seen as a light, by my dad. Those early days when he taught me to be a deep-sea fisherman. Sharing his passion with me, before my passion for figure skating tore us apart. I turned my light of awareness to those moments with a grace and an acknowledgement of choice. It opened up my heart so wide I could see the love that was never left behind. It felt good to choose the light, instead of reliving the struggles. There I was, a little kid playing in the bait tank, bringing in an 85-pound albacore, winning $70 in a jackpot, then buying a bike. My dad so proud. That was a light, and I felt it again.

I had no idea that…

At mile six I’d still be shouting out thanks to all the people who cheered us on along the route. The cops, the teenagers at the water stations, the trash collectors, the volunteers pointing way, the many people who sat outside their homes waving signs of encouragement. I was so filled up with light I didn’t want it to end.

 

I had no idea that…

In preparation for all the details of this event, I would get hundreds of inspirational quotes emailed to me from members of our New Thought Now community so I could match graphics with each of them, print them out, and cut them into cards for display in our booth at the finish line. Our volunteers gifted them to people who walked by. I got to be part of a community coming together to create ripples of love touching people in profound ways… Like the young woman who asked if she could take multiple cards since she was at a loss for the right words to comfort her friend who had just been diagnosed with breast cancer. She got to become the light.

 

I had no idea that…

I would get to see my 73-year-old husband joking with high schoolers when we all volunteered to stuff race bags for runners, assembly style. He was working hard for three hours and lit up the entire time. His giving, gave back to him in abundance. A light.

I had no idea that…

It would turn out this way. I’d been assembling all these moving parts for months. This was the first time it all came together, with joy and ease. Fundraising was super fun. Together we raised more than $6,000 for our New Thought Now community.

I had no idea that…

My presence in all this would be a big reminder that the most important relationship I will ever have is with myself. The day brought that into clear view with me as the witness. It’s so simple, really. I can choose to embody love without expectations, preference or judgement, and just be it. With gratitude.

I had no idea that…

I was the light all along. Guess I just needed to see it for myself.