Light Is Never "Lite"

each bit matters

(photo courtesy of freeimages.com)

“This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine…”

How many dozens, perhaps even hundreds of times have I sung that song?

The little song felt personal as a child, as if thinking about my light inside me as I sang it. Even wondering, “Do I really have a light inside of me?”

The initial context in which I learned it was Sunday School and shining the light of Jesus and “don’t let Satan blow it out” as we held our hands around our pretend light in order to protect it.

However, the song continues to be sung across all ages in many different settings, versions and contexts.

There are added verses – “Shine it all over (the city where you lived), I’m going to let it shine…” and then - “Shine it all over the world, I’m going to let it shine…”

As a child it felt as if my light would somehow feel bigger with each grander geography, or I would feel like I was getting brighter because it needed to be bigger and brighter to reach those places.

As I was musing about this last night, I thought perhaps the one word could be changed, just in case you want to sing the song again sometime.

The change is from “little” to “big.”

“This big light of mine, I’m going to let it shine.”

I know the intention of the original version is that even the tiniest light makes a difference, which is true. However, in a culture where I am so aware, especially as a coach, of people not believing in themselves, not believing that they possess unique gifts, strengths and, yes, light, I imagine the word change.

We fail to recognize/acknowledge just how much light capacity we have. We think that to make a difference it has to be far more than we possess as individuals.

I know we do not always FEEL the light and truthfully, as I write this, I am sad and angry. I wonder how much light it is going to take to right our world.

Jennifer Brody, another Substack newsletter writer, titles hers Writing to Right the World.

How do we right this world?

This is one of those days when I, too, wonder if there’s anything bright enough in me to make a difference as we navigate these times we are in.

Then, I put a stop to that too enormous wondering and go back to what I know.

In truth, my feelings of sadness and anger are beautiful catalysts and reminders to increase the light power. Turn it up even more, look for one more way to send it out, or perhaps ten more ways before I turn my bedside light off tonight.

Every. Single. Bit. Matters. Every single bit becomes cumulative and the cumulative effect matters.

There is no such thing as “lite” light. No light is less significant than any other.

As much as we tend to diminish the light we hold inside of us or wonder if we have any at all to access some days, it is vital to know, to truly know in the depth of our being, that perhaps a word said to someone today infused them with far more than light. It is possible that our light of one word or a sentence mattered so much that it saved their day in some way. And if not that dramatic, as some might critique, at least was a personal connection they might otherwise not have had. I believe that more often than we know, we have no idea how a ray of our light has touched another.

A word, a sentence spoken, even a smile or a touch, is no less worthy than community service to, for example, care for tornado victims, as is happening in my city right now.

Back in the late 60s the word “lite” started to appear, brought into popularity by the Miller Brewing Company in 1967 for its low-calorie beer.

The word then started showing up in all kinds of places and implies that something is a “less than” version – perhaps less complex – less sugar, less weight, less intense, etc.

I bring this up because the risk of ranking our inner light, and by extension, its impact, is a dangerous one, both to ourselves and to those who receive it.

Light is light.

Whether a gesture, a hug, an action, a word, a card, a call, a wave and hello as we pass someone on the sidewalk, or a long-lasting commitment to an action or presence that serves others – there could be a book of examples – the power of it is very BIG.

Light is hoped for, craved, necessary, life-giving, life-changing. It can also be funny and fun and playful and improvisational.

I’m thinking, as I end this particular piece, about the well-known book of long ago by William James, “The Variety of Religious Experiences.”

I’m thinking that perhaps it is time for a new one by all of us, each one contributing a sentence or a story – “The Variety of Light Experiences.”

And how we cannot do without them in our individual and collective worlds.

May it always be so.