Meditation By Candlelight

I was stuck in traffic.  A ritual occurrence in Los Angeles and while staring blankly at the endless red glow of brake lights ahead, a poem popped into my head just last night.  I was thinking about where we are at as a society versus where we were two hundred years ago… How so much effort used to go into items, art, and food that we now vastly take for granted with our modern conveniences.  How materialism and consumerism have driven us into a vicious cycle of demand and discard.

Technology is by far a great thing, as I am able to type this from my office in one part of the world and you are able to read this in another.  It has connected the world.  It has saved lives.  It has redefined us.

Candlelight though, the incandescence, the way it plays in the air, the way it fades reminds me of a time before traffic and plastic and instant gratification.  A time before technology as it is today.  It makes me think of Beethoven composing a symphony.  It makes me think of Charlotte Bronte penning Jane Eyre.  The candle always makes me think of history.  How many candles illuminated the happenings of great events, ideas and people?  When I sit by a candle I share in that legacy.  And when I think about it, it makes me feel connected to a time before me.


Meditation by candlelight, 

To hone a craft. 

A stitch 

A stroke 

A note. 

How far have we come? 

How far will we go? 

Until we find purpose 





I was wandering around Jerusalem and was standing at the old city wall, near Jaffa Gate when I noticed this dove.  It was just sitting, by itself, up on the stones.  And it almost seemed to possess a look of great consternation.


I thought how funny it would be if this dove was aware of its iconic status as harbinger of peace.  As a symbol of hope.  The bearer of the olive branch.  Then I thought about Tybalt Capulet’s line from Romeo + Juliet: 

“Peace? Peace?  I hate the word…”

And I thought it so fitting, that I had to alter the original photo.


In all reality, this bird was probably just eyeing the old woman toting the bread.  But if not, it seemed to clearly shirk its role as peace bringer.  Possibly too disappointed in the actions of man to pick up the olive branch.  Just waiting and watching the world unravel around it.

What happens when our iconic symbols become ironic?