Letting In the Light

Photo Courtesy of Cali www.pixabay.com

Venetian Blinds

Late in the afternoon, when the sun makes its way into my study through the wide western windows, I sometimes pull a cord which closes the Venetian blinds and shuts out the sunlight, either completely or partially, depending upon my wishes and whims at the moment.

Of course, in keeping out the sun, I also intercept my view of the outside world, so that I cannot perceive what transpires beyond the thin panels of the blinds.

A certain man closed the shutters around himself, refusing to let the world into the inner sanctum of his own life. He became cynical, grouchy, anti-social and cantankerous. For a time those who knew him attempted to make their way in around the barriers, but after suffering rebuffs, they left him to his self-desired role of a recluse. With the years, his face became harder and more deeply lined with hatred for his fellow men. Then, at length, he committed suicide, leaving a note in which he complained of the injustice and unkindness of mankind. In pulling the blinds against others, he dwarfed his own soul. 

You cannot close the shutters without making the room darker.

Neither can you build around yourself a fence to keep others out, except you make your own soul smaller and your life an emptiness. For a man to have friends, he must himself be friendly.

--by Leo Bennett, from Sunshine Magazine, December 1961