"Since becoming blind, I have paid more attention to a thousand things," Lusseyran wrote. One of his greatest discoveries was how the light he saw changed with his inner condition. When he was sad or afraid, the light decreased at once. Sometimes it went out altogether, leaving him deeply and truly blind. When he was joyful and attentive, it returned as strong as ever. He learned very quickly that the best way to see the inner light and remain in its presence was to love."
Jacques became blind through an accident when he was seven. Ten days later, he writes of discovering a new world. His words:
"I had completely lost the sight of my eyes; I could not see the light of the world anymore. Yet the light was still there. Its source was not obliterated. I felt it gushing forth every moment and brimming over; I felt how it wanted to spread out over the world. I had only to receive it. It was unavoidably there. It was all there, and I found again its movements and shades, that is, its colors, which I had loved so passionately a few weeks before.
This was something entirely new, you understand, all the more so since it contradicted everything that those who have eyes believe. The source of light is not in the outer world. We believe that it is only because of common delusion. The light dwells where life also dwells: within ourselves."
Right now the sun is shining brightly. It is easy to be lulled and stroked by outer light.
How, then, do I gush and fountain forth my inner light?
It seems the answer is to call myself to attention, to the mindful land of reception, and bask in the continuing cultivation of love.