You’ve probably seen a lighthouse before—a tall, solitary tower standing against the sea, its beacon cutting through the darkness. Once an essential guide for sailors navigating treacherous waters, most lighthouses now stand as relics of the past, their purpose fading into history, repurposed as tourist attractions. But once upon a time, they were lifelines—warning ships of hidden dangers, guiding them safely through perilous shallows and rocky shores, ensuring they found their way home.
Of course, in keeping with my tendency to explore duality, there’s another side to this story. Lighthouses, while symbols of safety, have also been at the mercy of violent storms, crushing waves, and shifting ice. Some, ironically, became the very obstacles they were meant to prevent, with ships crashing into them in heavy fog. The lighthouse keepers, isolated from the world, braved relentless weather, exhaustion, and wartime attacks, sometimes risking their own lives to rescue those lost at sea. And then there was the slow, creeping madness—the loneliness of a job that required them to keep the light burning even when no one was watching. Many keepers succumbed to isolation, some to tragedy, others to insanity.
A lighthouse’s beam, magnified by mirrors and lenses, can stretch up to 20 nautical miles (37 km), its reach extending far beyond what the eye can see. But what good is a lighthouse if its light goes out?
I suppose some of us are lighthouses for the beloved ships in our lives—standing steadfast, illuminating their way, ensuring they find safe passage through the storms. We watch from a distance, unwavering, asking for nothing in return. But even lighthouses have limits. A beacon can only shine for so long before the flame flickers, before the isolation erodes the foundation.
Perhaps, just perhaps, some ships were never meant to keep sailing. Maybe they, too, long for a place to rest—for a shore to call home. Because even a lighthouse, for all its strength, was never meant to stand alone. And maybe, just maybe, the light shines brightest when it’s not just guiding others but warming something within itself.
So if you are a lighthouse—and let’s be honest, we all are in some way—take care of yourself. Keep your light steady, not just for those who seek it, but for yourself, so when the storms come, you’re still standing, still shining, ready to guide the ones who need you most.
fortuitouspurpose 