What the Lighthouse Means To Me

In May I received an email that opened a door that had always been closed to me.

It wasn’t a personal email or invitation, but rather a call to action sent to a mailing list I opted into for a reason long forgotten. These days I receive countless numbers of these communications—emails blasted to thousands of people in a database, often selling one thing or another, announcing some perilous political situation that only a fundraising goal can fix, a roundup of the news, urgent flash sales for every product under the sun, fitness advice, frequent flier news.

No hyperbole: my personal (non-work) email Inbox at this very moment has 88,758 messages of which 38,204 wait in a queue, Unread. In the time taken to write this, hundreds more arrive. Not one from a person who actually knows me.

So how is it possible that I happened to notice, then open, and read this email, an invitation to attend a meeting to learn about being a Summer Volunteer at the Lighthouse?

Notice what you notice.    -Allen Ginsberg

Like most people, I have honed an astute ability to scan and scroll and swipe past millions of words and images, seeking one of personal relevance and meaning. For me, that day, what I saw on the endless horizon of data was one word: Lighthouse.

Lighthouses have always fascinated and filled me with awe… a beacon shining from a structure built for strength on the edges of the earth, casting light into the vast sea and the darkness, tended to by selfless servants working in harsh solitude, guiding unknown souls who might otherwise be lost on their journey.

They say we don’t need lighthouses any longer. Technology does the job better. I’m not so sure.

Indeed, technology bridges (and creates) gaps in my own life. Creating systems that enable me to work anywhere, and alone. Offering countless digital tribes that cultivate the allusion of human connection and validation. Bringing an endless sea of information to my own private beach. Always on, always close by, in my pocket, in my handbag, on my nightstand. Tap and a screen glows—a beacon of connection when I am adrift in a dark sea, attempting to continue my own journey, begun here, in this very place, many years ago when my family moved to Morehead City the summer I turned 5.

Growing up in Carteret County without any kin or roots here, the “Cape” and “Shack” symbolized belonging to me… to a place, to a culture, to a heritage, to a people that I desperately wanted to be a part of, to be accepted into. A girl from Off, longing for connection, wanting nothing more than to be In. A longing renewed when I returned to live here 5 years ago.

And then a chance, maybe, a way in… to be a part of Cape Lookout Lighthouse… to stand in the hot sun to share her story and history and beauty. To feel the shifting sand beneath my feet as I explore the wild landscape of this spit of land. To look up and bear witness to that brilliant beam of light sweeping the horizon every minute of every day. To climb 207 steps to the top and gaze upon the land and ocean that my journey has taken me to now twice in my life.

And so how is it that one email, a single molecule of water in an endless ocean of meaningless information, somehow reached me, bringing with it a chance of real, raw, palpable connection, at the precise moment when I so desperately needed it?

Because that is how lighthouses work, and what the Diamond Lady means to me. A beacon calling me in, connecting and guiding me, finally, home.