Written by: Morgan Blair, Founder and Creative Director of Unpolished Journey
We drove a long way. Six hours to be exact. To see it. See the eclipse. Out in the middle of no where, in the line of totality, on the highest point of the Native’s land. We set up camp, got out the hummus, and turned on some Nahko to prepare our minds and spirits.
These moments mean more to me than they might to the average person. I look out at the rolling hills, I feel the blazing sun on my skin, I taste the pita and hummus on my tongue, I hear the music, and everything- I mean everything- is amplified as if coming out of a blaring speaker somewhere off to my right. I know what it is like to be trapped in darkness, to be friend’s with death, to fantasize about fading away. I know darkness, therefore light is overwhelmingly beautiful. It is a sight I always feel I am seeing for the first time. A new friend, a new food, a song, an experience, water, life, love, hope, all these things allow me to fall in love with life all over again.
Lightness, goodness, hopefulness, these are equal to the eclipse. A sight that together the entire nation shared in its wonder. Together we stood up there on that hill under the 90 degree sun, cheering as the day turned night, as the universe took control of our attention, as we, if even for a moment, were not distracted by our differences. Unity. What a sight. The world is a magical place. So many concepts unexplained to us.
I rested on that hill, under the newly night sky, and embraced the dark. I sat in the dark, yet completely encapsulated by the light and magic of the moment. I used to only recognize the dark, but now I am friends with the light. Now I can feel these experiences with an intensity some may see as unimaginable. I know death, I know hopelessness, I know despair, and I am so thankful for that because in knowing these things I am able to appreciate their counterparts that much more.
Today is my little cousin’s birthday. He passed away a year and nine months ago. I still don’t know what to do with that loss. But somewhere during the eclipse I felt like I got a glimpse of his beauty once again. He was there. There was a chill in the air, a comforting blanket of hope, and he was the one covering me in it. What a thought? What a sight? What an experience?
I write them down now, these experiences. I don’t want to ever forget all the light I have felt. I don’t want the darkness to win over my mind. I set reminders for myself.
Energy of hope.
Energy of light.
I write these things down, close my notebook, and smile as I express gratitude for being healthy, alive, and hopeful enough to embrace these moments.
Embrace your own moments of light today.