Quote Of The Day: A Lighthouse

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Quote Of The Day #79

I was trying to publish this post last night, but I realized that I didn’t feel like doing it after all. If one has been reading for the night, one often feels disinclined towards writing, as if the two activities are mutually exclusive somehow. Anyway, I was leafing through the books I bought on sale the day before and came across this quote: “you are your own lighthouse” by Amanda Lovelace.

I’ve heard similar statements, like “I’m my own one woman (or man) army”, “I’m my own therapist”, “I’m my own nurturer”, “I’m my own audience”, which make one dizzy with a sense of independence and pride, plus an inescapable feeling of dread and loneliness.

I’ve always wondered how to be unique without losing togetherness, speaking one’s mind without causing displeasure, taking a stand but not being stubborn. It is not easy to take care of two contradictory positions, or serve two masters at the same time. Also even if one can achieve it, will it be considered opportunistic? I don’t know.

In addition to becoming one’s own lighthouse, I wonder if becoming other people’s light house can bring back the feeling of belonging.

I can’t help but remember something happened long time ago when I was in college. In my class, there was a very clever boy. He was destined to be a scientist and had a very logical mind. He was also very whimsical and sarcastic. The problem was that he was not handsome enough to make girls forget about his whims and sarcasm, which often directed at girls. So girls avoided him and he was a little hurt, which made him even more sarcastic.

As you know, my mother had died of traffic accident at the time, after which my father got remarried. Everybody knew this. He knew it too. When we had a group project with five members together, he somehow liked to bring this information up during our conversations, often accompanied by a chuckle of derision afterwards. He thought the word “stepmother” sounded funny for some reason. Probably he wanted to make a conversation with me and used this as an overture, but I never reciprocated. I was a “grey rock” who didn’t respond.

Now looking back, I felt that I should have communicated with him. I mean he was very likely a boy who grew up in a family with a strict father and an indulgent mother. At least that was how I imagined his family. His parents withheld life’s disturbances, sorrows, upsets and a lot of other things from him, put up a fake shining front, push him to study hard. His parents probably had never communicated with him their sorrows of losing a relative, never talked with him about their friendship woes, never let him know the alcoholism of one uncle and the elopement of an aunt. They made this innocent boy believe that life is so well structured and rigid that he was not able to understand life is in fact quite messy.

I could have talked with him and let him know that traffic accidents do happen every day, people do get remarried, families can fall apart or merge again, most women are not going to behave like his indulgent mother. Actually in my heart, I did like his sarcasm for some reason. I could have talked with him, but I didn’t.

This is what I am trying to say. We are not only our own lighthouse. We are also other people’s lighthouse. We are each other’s lighthouse. We can help ourselves and others to live a better life.