~ lighthouse.

Perhaps I am jinxing this by writing about it.  (Perhaps not.)

When uncertainty decreases there occurs an increase in optimism.

Maybe it does not really decrease, and you only think it has, but perhaps that is enough in itself – or maybe not.

People are not perfect, but they can be there, always – or sometimes.

People can be a steadfast lighthouse in a turbulent sea.

A place of solace; even though the lighthouse itself may not be high enough to keep the water from making its floors rather moldy, the lighthouse keeper still lives there.  We are both sailors but we also build lighthouses for each other wherever there is land to be seen.  Sometimes there is no land.  In that case we build a makeshift canoe (of firewood) and gather supplies for survival.

Sometimes the light in one of our lighthouses explodes and glass buries itself into the soles of our lighthouse keeper.  Since the light is gone occasionally a shipwreck is also on the cards.  Then the lighthouse keeper (while attempting to remove the glass from his feet rather painfully) rows out into the middle of the waves and pulls out a lone survivor from the water, takes her to the lighthouse, feeds her and makes sure she doesn’t run a fever until she is ready to embark upon another voyage.

Very rarely will both lighthouses collapse and a darkness descends upon the horizon and a chill runs down the collective spines of both the survivor and the saver.  What is to be done is immediately apparent.  But there is no wood and no steel to build another lighthouse.

The only other path that can be taken is forward, out into the unknown, sometimes without food or water – a path ridden with disease and strife and a few petty fights.  To explore the ocean even though they know their boat might capsize.  You can never tell.

Soon we too shall build our lighthouses, and set off to faraway lands to discover our treasure – and to finally find a home.