How does the light get out? 3/4/15

How does the light get out, when we all live in the ‘from here to there’ shackles of confinement? How does the light get out of us when we all live within the prison of ‘viewable space’, given the oppressive walls of ‘immediate perception’? How does any of this light happen within us when we all live in the rooms teeming with ‘blinds spots’ and ‘elephants’? That light, from where does it come, when all we vacantly stare at is the cloud formations of media driven topics floating in our skies of distant curiosity? Or that light self-reflected when we all ponderously look out the window of our ‘any next thought’ that’s coming? Still, that light, how does it come, even if all we indifferently get are scripts handed to us with lines for us to say in other peoples’ movies or their ever ongoing reality plays? Even if we all are either shuffle along in someone else’s line or row along in someone else’s boat, or ignore that bleak wallpaper and the clutter of surroundings that other’s have picked and placed before us, how does that light from within get out? Surely we all know the light coming from those small and intimate well lit moments when we are sorry for another’s loss yet others too when we are happily lit up for their gain. We all have had that light emittance when sometimes we have had to privately finish off another’s sentences for them to appear to be somewhat sane. There is even light around us, even when we shamelessly walk in another’s footsteps and still become no wiser. There is so much light around us for us to fancy playing dodge-ball with the time of day and even enough for us to give weather a fresh face greeting in our wander. Experience seems to be the oxygen we breathe to keep this light of being bright and flowing. We make these illuminations, ever watching movies that require no tickets for entry, going to dances that actually originated in our own heads, and happily visit dreams as if they came from foreign lands. We light up friendships as if we know the meaning of sharing ‘common space’. But still, how does that light get out when we abide by the ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ in the given pronouncements of our overbearing hormones, or when we allow for our mirror time to be a version of our critical mind at work? Yet the light does pronounce when we take inner delights from the innocent behaviors of small children, wagering their next moment’s interest. Seriously, how does that light from deep inside get out of us when we transverse the value terrains of our lives as if it is the laborious task of the day and yet as if bewitched, also sleep as if this light of us, this light in us, is some magical form of mortal reprieve? Please secretly tell me. How does that light get out of our being?