I spent a few hours this evening reading a book in the lower branches of a favorite tree just outside of my room. When the light finally became to dim to read, I headed back to dorm, finding the constant luminance of my room a more conducive environment for reading. Yet while I was making my way through the grass, I noticed a faint spark among the darkened blades of grass. As a natural pyro, I immediately thought to a fire spark. But now, the ephemeral burst came from a lonely firefly, an aptly named insect indeed.
For anyone who has betrayed their parents warnings and played with matches understands the process. You strike the match against the flint and hope for the friction to spark into a small flame. This is never a sure process. Even with new matches and a good striker, even with years and years of experience, each match must past through a fateful moment, a turning point. It decided whether the spark will catch into a fire or fade into nothing. It is the difference between light and dark, day and night, knowledge and ignorance.
People to this day understand the metaphorical relationship between a spark and an idea. Many of us have had “flashes” or “bursts” of insight. But these are rare. We spend most of our days artificially enlightened by blubs or flames already set up for us. I flip a light switch with no suspect as to whether the light will turn on or not. And so we are caught in an inescapably determined future.
I enjoy my fiery nocturnal friends. In each of them is the flash of insight or moment of genius towards which we all ideally strive. It is a moment of completely uncertainty, as the spark perchance leads us somewhere new. And how can unknown be certain to us? At the moment they shine through the dark, they junction between a failed attempt or a moment of insight. While they invariably fade back to darkness, I chase them anyway. It is an uncertain leader, but I know, respect and admire the potential of a spark.
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