Jacques Lusseyran

I felt sure that nothing was unfriendly, that the branches I used to swing on would hold firm, and that the paths, no matter how winding, would take me to a place where I would not be afraid.

that all paths eventually would lead me back to my family.

You might say that I had no story, except the most important of all, the story of life.

I began to look more closely,

Not at things, but at a world closer to myself.

Looking from an inner place to one further within.

Instead of clinging to the movement of sight toward the world outside.

Immediately the substance of the universe drew together, redefined and peopled itself anew.

I was aware of a radiance emanating from a place I knew nothing about, a place which might have well been outside me as within.

But radiance was there, or to put it more precisely, light.

I felt indescribable relief, and happiness so great it almost made me laugh.

Confidence and gratitude came as if a prayer had been answered.

I found light and joy at the same moment.

And I can say without hesitation that from that time on, light and joy have never been separated in my experience.

The amazing thing was that this was not magic for me at all, but reality.

I could no more have denied it than people with eyes can deny that they see.

I was not light myself, I knew that, but I bathed in it as an element which blindness had suddenly brought much closer.

I could feel light rising, spreading, resting on objects, giving them form.

Withdrawing or diminishing is what I mean, for the opposite of light was never present.

Sighted people always talk about the night of blindness, and that seems to them quite natural.