John installed overhead lights in my sewing room. Working early in the morning is made easier with such a luxury, and I appreciate it every day. They are triggered by motion, so I have no need to flick a switch. Which is pretty handy.

But the catch is, when I am hunkered down over the needle, I am fairly still. Which assures the mechanism that it is off duty, and the room goes dark. It is up to me to wave my arms wildly, or stand up abruptly. Then the attentive bulbs go bright again. It is not from negligence, or apathy, that they turn off. They just think I went away.

My students have learned this. When the room goes dim, even in the afternoon, they laugh and jump up like a jack-in-a-box. Because what nine-year-old doesn't want to do that. Then we are again washed in light. 

It all feels like a metaphor. The enlightenment that shines within my brain comes and goes in ways that might feel arbitrary. One day I have clarity about a passage in scripture, and the next day it feels dusky. It all depends on whether I am taking action. 

"People who have faith separated from charity are in complete and utter darkness about the truths of genuine faith.  They cannot be in any light and so cannot at all perceive what truth is or whether something is true. This is because all spiritual light comes through goodness from the Lord, that is, through charity. For any good work of charity is like a flame giving light, since good work comes of love, and love is spiritual fire that gives enlightenment."  Secrets of Heaven 7950, Emanuel Swedenborg