I’ve been fortunate enough to have been away for the last few days delivering a training course in a very picturesque Scottish town called Inverary. It’s a lovely wee place. Not much to do right enough, but lovely all the same. One of my favourite things about it is that, because it’s in the middle of nowhere, it’s dark. Dark dark if you know what I mean?
If you live in a city or big town you’ll recognise the surprise and wonder there can be when you go somewhere ‘dark dark’ because its then you realise just how many stars there are up there that you can’t normally see.
When you look up to the sky it’s easy to just accept that it is what it is, isn’t it. You see it every night, it’s just there, it’s the ruddy sky! Big white circley thing appears in it every so often, wee twinkly bits, in Scotland it’s often covered in clouds. What I find fascinating is what you can’t see…or at least, what you can’t see until the lights go out.
And that’s the thing isn’t it. Every night, even here back in town, those same stars are there. Just because I can’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not there. They are. They aren’t hiding. I’m just not in the right place to be able to see them. Make sense?
One of my ambitions is to go to one of those places, I’m sure I’m not that far away from one, where it is that dark dark you can actually see the arm of the Milky Way slowly creep across the sky. A place so quiet, peaceful and far from what we accept to be normal life that it is possible to see almost as far away as it is possible for us to see (without the use of some big ass telescope of course!!).
There is so much waiting for us that we can’t see. It’s there, shining as bright as it can, we just need to find that place peaceful enough, that place far enough away from normal life for us to be able to witness what’s always been there.
When was the last time you let yourself get to a place like that?