An Architecture of Returning

Part One: The Selection

After the wound, you must move. Act quickly. This does not have to be a physical motion. Select something you love. This need not be a place you can touch. This can even be a place inside you. It will always be safe. It will always be protected. It’s where you can go, and where all your thoughts will stop swirling.

Let’s say you choose a lighthouse. Engineer it simply: a tower, a lamp at the top, stones scalloped in layers around the base. Simple in design, a cone rising from the sea.

Choose a smooth object that you can hold: a polished stone or shell from a trip to the beach, a favorite mug, a firm pillow. Any of these will do. That object will represent your lighthouse.

Place the object in your lap and close your eyes. This will keep you moving forward, not sinking into the past. Imagine your lighthouse. Hold onto the smoothness of your object. The lighthouse will manifest into being by your thoughts. Place yourself on one of the flat rocks at its base. Feel the gleam of the stones entering your skin, warming you.

2. Note the Weather and Act Accordingly

Each time you go to your lighthouse, look around.

If it’s foggy, move slowly. Allow the fog to grow warm around you like the embrace of a soft blanket. Accept the lack of clarity; it’s how dreams are woven. It’s all right to exist in a place with no edges, at least for now.

Is it windy? Secure loose thoughts by journaling or placing them in a pocket to review later. They are feathers that you have captured and can examine when the weather is still. Feathers like to be still more than anyone knows.

Is it clear? These days are the best. But clear weather is shy. On a clear day, clean the lighthouse lens. That way, you can be sure it is polished well. Instructions on how to do so are provided below.

3. Cleaning the Lens

On clear days, you want to make sure the lens is dust-free. While wiping the lens, name three things you can see. It can be the rocks, a ship in the distance, a fish, or the crest of a wave. Anything really. Close your eyes after noticing each one and memorize the images. These will be your anchor.

Now, name one thing you completed yesterday, even if it was just making a cup of tea.

After you name your one thing, name one thing you do very well. Even if it isn’t your favorite thing to do, think of something everyone likes about you. This should be simple: your smile, the bread you bake, the way you listen. One thing.

When you finish saying these items aloud, your anchor will be securely fastened, and the salt buildup will be removed from the glass.

4. Light the Lamp

Understand that the lamp is not only a blaze or a beacon. Its flame is permission you give

yourself to move forward. It is fuel for you. Lighting the lamp is simple as shown below.

Turn it on by doing a few small tasks correctly:

Place your shoes by the door in a neat row.

Hang up your coat, sweater, or bag. If you don’t have any of those, straighten a blanket or wipe a counter.

Rinse the spoon before setting it down.

Send the message you have been delaying, with fewer words than you planned.

Once the message is sent, let it rise and vanish by watching the light from the beacon shimmer on the waves. Once the waves break, the light and the light fractures and scatters, your message is over.

If the lamp flickers, that’s fine. Lighthouses blink. That’s how illumination breathes.

That night, look out over the sea. It doesn’t matter if it is calm or turbulent. The darker the night and the water, the better. It will make your flame all the brighter.

5. Close for the Night

When the room goes shadowy and all the light is leaving, dim the lamp. Thank the lighthouse without words.

If you forget to say thank you, it will forgive you. Lighthouses are built for repetition, not perfection. Besides, it understands the unspoken, as you have built it silently.

6. Mind the Shore

The next morning, look out over the sea. Assess the sky, the conditions. Now you have an anchor, a light, a place to stay, the emptying of thoughts, and a map of how to navigate whatever may drift to or around you.

Watch as long as you like. Ships may not arrive. That is not a failure. Instead, watch for smaller things: a thought that passes safely, a worry that veers away on its own, a minute that doesn’t tip over. These are boats, too.

Do not wave.

6. Perform Maintenance

Weekly, check the structure.

Tighten routines that have loosened.

Replace habits that have rusted.

Leave one crack unrepaired so the building can breathe, and what is not old, not needed, or cluttered can escape easily.

Never rebuild the whole lighthouse at once. Appreciate what you have created and how you have managed everything. When you need to retreat to the structure, do so without hesitation or regret.

Remember, each stone has been set more by memory than by craft. This is optimal because the sea will test memory more than craft. In closing, remember you can always return to your lighthouse, but before you do:

Leave some rooms unfurnished, so silence has somewhere to sit and speak.

When the waves grow loud, climb the tower.

On unclear days, look at what you have made and remember only why your lighthouse is built upward.