The Pilot Light

I woke up to a knock. It stirred something deep within me that couldn’t be ignored. The knock prompted me to turn on the lights—both figuratively and literally. I wanted to understand who, or what, was calling. There was a tug at my heart.

At first, I tried to shrug it off as part of my ongoing struggles with sleep. But then I realized it was a moment I was meant to wake up for—a moment to step into my life and breathe in the present. Fear and concern softened into curiosity. And that curiosity sparked something inside of me.

Sometimes we reach moments where we feel lost and cold in this life. Our path blurs, and our sense of self disintegrates into daily tasks. We aren’t struggling because we don’t know what to do; we struggle under the onslaught of choice and noise all around us. We wonder: How do we light the path home? How do we inhabit our bodies and souls again?

We ignite from within.

There is something beautifully human—perhaps something that extends beyond humanity into all that is alive—and that is creative expression. Creativity is the way we demonstrate our imagination, the way we project ourselves into the world around us. How we show up, how we navigate life, how we meet each day—this is creativity. And it is this creative expression that ignites the pilot light in our soul. It is the flame that warms our internal home.

When we lie awake at night tossing with worry, when we end the workday depleted only to face another set of tasks, when joy feels distant and the ache in our heart becomes the loudest thing in the room—how do we stay connected to our essence?

Our fragmentation can feel like failure. But it’s important to realize this is not a personal failing. It is a symptom of living in a world that rarely lets us come home to ourselves.

The solution isn’t doing more or running away (though a trip to an unknown island with no cell service can sound tempting right about now). What’s missing isn’t effort—it’s connection. It’s tending the pilot light within, drawing close, and warming the heart from the inside out.

When the flame flickers back to life and the inner haunting is replaced with meaning and aliveness, something shifts. We pull up a chair and listen. We hear what we truly need in order to inhabit our lives again. The soul warms. It feels welcome.

So how do we ignite this light? By noticing what sparks joy and draws the breath deeper. When the shoulders soften, the corners of the mouth lift, the brow relaxes, and a quiet twinkle returns to the eyes. This joy comes from creative awareness.

Creativity isn’t simply artistic talent or something to be mastered. It’s the pilot light—always there, simply waiting to be tended. When we bring our attention to this light, its warmth reminds us who we are.

Tending the flame is an expression of self. It lives in a golden thread of creativity woven through the small, daily acts of life. When the light is on and we are home within ourselves, the relational, cozy life we long for comes alive. The path clarifies. The breath deepens. Our feet feel grounded, and we remember we can inhabit the moment.

And when the world comes crashing in again—as it inevitably will—we return to the flame. We pull up a chair. We listen. We show up again and again, tending the fire, recognizing what draws us home.

This is how we live from wholeness instead of depletion. Through small, daily, relational, repeatable acts of tending the inner pilot light, we return. We inhabit our lives with a quiet brightness that keeps us going.

If this reflection resonates with you, you are not alone. You are coming home. You are learning to tend the flame. There is room for you here. Pull up a chair. Warm your soul.

I write weekly reflections for big-hearted humans who are learning to live creatively from the inside out. You’re welcome to walk alongside.