Meditation: Contrast

On the way home last evening I was driving up Ute Pass at dusk, the windows down, purple on the clouds ahead. Green Mountain Falls lay drowsily to the south and lights were beginning to come on at the houses nestled up in the hills. I thought how each of us finds warmth stirring inside at the sight of that, and, for some, a sense of longing. For what? That is different for everyone and, perhaps, a secret. As I drove past, leaving those lights appearing one by one in the twilight, I was reminded of the poem Contrast by Emily Dickinson, so painfully apropos.

A door just opened on a street—
I, lost, was passing by—
An instant’s width of warmth disclosed,
And wealth, and company.

The door as sudden shut, and I,
I, lost, was passing by,—
Lost doubly, but by contrast most,
Enlightening misery.