lea’s letter
(un-artifical and not so intelligent. but slightly more real)…
wow. slow clap here for AI (artificial intelligence) which has really made our holiday greeting easy and pain/brain free. i feel like chatGPT nailed it. HOW DID IT KNOW US SO WELL? and the visuals? so. many. dogs. we are empty nesters with no dog, why AI? however, you are free to think of us exactly like those people in the computer generated letter & stop reading now. but if you know that AI might not be spitting out the whole truth, onto the REAL story of this year…
my L word of the year could be london. it was unbelievable to be back (after a brief 35 year hiatus) in cities (stratford-upon-avon, london, & oxford) that forged my love of theatre. shakespeare. history. architecture. afternoon tea/scones/clotted cream/lemon curd. c.s. lewis. & the tube. my fanaticism for TFL (transport for london) was rekindled quickly as tube riding lea is lea at her logistical best.
my most profound theatre moment (out of 23 shows) was in punchdrunk’s immersive theatre experience, the burnt city. it’s a very different type of theatre event. first, you walk around & explore the entire warehouse “set”, & then you stand and watch the wordless performance, all whilst wearing a plague doctors mask. it isn’t for everyone. there are two performances going on at the same time, one downstairs and one upstairs. & i had to choose only one story to watch. both acts seemed very intriguing. both involved nudity (whoops) and both were greek tragedy retellings, which you know is my JAM (and grad school concentration.) but i could only choose ONE. & here’s the kicker, i wanted to be content with my choice, even though i was aware i was missing another compelling story. you know i like BOTH &. but at that moment i had to find joy in the one story i was watching, knowing i was missing another story (also a tragedy) downstairs. (in case you wondered, i chose the upstairs tale of agamemnon arriving home to a banquet with a bloody ending.) i think that might be indicative of my life right now (not the agamemnon and his final fatal shower part), but choosing to love the story i am in & not missing the story that isn’t mine right now. i delighted in every day of my london story in june. with family/friends/students from many chapters of my life joining me in london, the city of dreams. making it a dreamy month indeed. (though my facebook account was hacked & deleted & i had to start completely over. so if you haven’t seen me there recently, re-friend me, if you miss my wordiness. i, like immersive theatre, am not for everyone.) but london is not my word of my year.
turns out there is one tiktok trend that i have been unknowingly participating in for years… the NEVER USE THE BIG LIGHT trend. the BIG LIGHT is a british term (of course) for the large overhead light in a room. turns out there are lots of people, JUST LIKE ME, who hate the big light and prefer small lamp lights in a room. i (much to adam’s chagrin) leave various lamps on ALWAYS, so that i never walk into a dark room. i also leave lamps on in our kids’ vacated bedrooms. as a way to say that we are still open. we are still here. you can come back home anytime. we’ve left a lamp on for you. so my word of the year is LAMP. a lamp is a smaller light. only lighting a tiny part of a room. or a story. not blindingly bright. just warm & welcoming.
author sarah bessey agrees with me about small lamps (which thrills me to no end). she says, “I’ve learned to love a gentler light when I’m in the dark months. No harsh overhead florescent lamps, not for these long months. We filled the house with lamplight and candles. We light them almost every night, making something special and beautiful and homey out of the darkness outside.”
the world may be dark. but we can always light a lamp. or look for someone who is holding one out for us.
the etymology of the word comes from the greek word lampad- ‘torch’. in homer’s odyssey (which i was thoughtfully working my way through in london), we find the first mention of a lamp in all of greek literature. a golden lamp is held by athena (goddess of wisdom, craft, and warfare. she’s such a multi-tasker.) to help odysseus and his son, telemachus, find a way forward in their story to retake their home.
“Athena stood by them with a golden lamp; she made majestic light. Telemachus said, ‘Father, my eyes have noticed something very strange. The palace walls, the handsome fir-wood rafters and crossbeams and the pillars high about are visible, as if a fire were lit. Some god from heaven must be in the house.’” {the odyssey, book 19, lines 35-39, translation by emily wilson}
seems you don’t need an overhead huge light to travel by. a lamp will suffice. there are so many times i want to see the entire course, the ending of an arduous journey, but i only get lamp light. which is enough (as telemachus says) to know there is a God in this with you. a lamp is ample to see the next step or moment. a detail. a tiny way God is with us in the dark. it’s not a full vision of His Glory. not all of the story. maybe it is just the next word to say. or hear. all around may be dark. but there is a glimmer. a small glow of goodness & mercy.
a brief search reveals that lamps, lights, & torches in a work of literature can represent many things: anger, desire, sadness, anxiety, fear, hope, joy, enthusiasm, triumph, & knowledge. ALL of those i have felt this last year. even this very day. it’s been a different season with none of our children home for the holidays. but even that has had its moments of warmth & clarity. light is complicated. it shows us things we don’t always want to see. it dispels the darkness. but sometimes in a way that is too harsh. too intense. too much. occasionally a small lamp is better to show us something lovely when the overhead BIG LIGHT’s overwhelming glare blazes too radiant. a lamp light is enough right now. for me. & i bet enough for you too in this season.
“I don't want to be swallowed by the darkness. Nor do I want to be blinded by the beautiful facade. No, I want to be part of a people who see the darkness, know it's real, and then, then, then, light a candle anyway. And hold that candle up against the wind and pass along our light wherever it's needed from our own homes to the halls of legislation to the church pulpit to the kitchens of the world.”
{also sarah bessey, from her book out of sorts: making peace with an evolving faith}
a few weeks ago, i walked into incarnation, our sweet little anglican church, & our lead pastor, jon hall, had put up beautiful new wall lamp sconces. that he had designed and constructed. his wife says creating & crafting with his hands is how he processes through difficult days, that is why he and i are friends. well, that and his british accent. the lamps will be lit on christmas eve. each with a small, steady, satisfying glow. showing us just enough beauty to keep moving into a new year. the Light has come. in the smallest of lamp-like ways on both the most ordinary & the darkest of days. a torch bearing God must be with us.
can we step into all that’s unknown and dark holding a light that comes from knowing we aren’t alone? a tiny light doesn’t just invade darkness, it vanquishes it. & it can be shared. thank you for all who shared moments of loving lamp light with us (or anyone) this year. let’s share more as we scatter darkness in small ways, together…
We're not drowning in our tears
Oh but there sure have been enough to drown in
It's hard to face the day from here
Where it looks like the night has it surrounded
But sometimes all this pain and sadness
Is more than a heart can handle
But I'm tired of cursing at the darkness
I'm gonna light a candle
{from the song i’m gonna light a candle by andy gullahorn)
or in my case, i am going to leave a lamp on. i hope you do too.
lea noblin marshall 12.24.2023
She senses that her gain is good;
Her lamp does not go out at night. proverbs 31:18