By Rev. Dr. Kharma R. Amos, Minister of the Unitarian Universalist Church of Brunswick, Maine
I am still processing my experience of the eclipse last week. I found it much more profound and emotional than I anticipated. Like many others, I traveled so I could be in the path of totality. It was my first time. Even though I had the minute-by-minute preview of the predictable changes that would occur in light and temperature, I was still swept up in the Mystery.
Little makeshift communities formed in parking lots and roadside pull-offs all across North America, and they became birthplaces of joy. The one I was in showed a range of reverent responses to those 3+ minutes of totality: stillness and silence, raucous shouts, cheers and applause, and (my favorite, if I’m honest) one four-year old who exclaimed with their whole body, “This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me in my life!”
A friend of mine in the Midwest had plans similar to mine—to drive a few hours to totality and make the most of the experience. Her group even rented a party bus! Sadly, they didn’t quite make it because … traffic. In this instance, almost was not quite enough; even at 99.9% it never got completely dark. There was a metaphorical shadow over their party, until they realized on their way back that their lesson to learn this eclipse was just how little light it actually takes to brighten the world.
I noticed that, too. Before the eclipse, when there was just a tiny sliver of the sun, it was still pretty light out. And at the end, a mere dot of the sun appearing sent such light that we scrambled to put our glasses back on. It was as if the whole universe shouted its wisdom: Just a little light can make such a big difference!
There is so much to be despairing about in the world these days: ongoing war and famine, dire reminders of the effects of climate change, political polarization and a rise in extremism, the dehumanization of immigrants on a global scale, the erosion of women’s and voting rights, trans people fleeing states for safety and well-being, and the list goes on and on. Yet, there is also still hope as long as even the tiniest bit of light, compassion, and goodness can break through. I don’t know about you, but I needed this reminder. I want it to serve as a motivator to keep doing what I can to see that light and to be that light, even or especially when things seem dire.
When it does get difficult, this wisdom from Clarissa Pinkola Estés always helps me: “Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach. Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world, will help immensely. It is not given to us to know which acts or by whom, will cause the critical mass to tip toward an enduring good.” Every little bit of light and goodness we choose to shine or simply reflect back to others can help. Let’s join with the cosmos in encouraging one another to do so with intention.