The Illuminating Angle of Context

Kim Reindl
1 day ago
4 min read

INTENSION: Possibility

TOUCHSTONE:

Make Room for Mystery and Surprise. The opposite of faith is not doubt. The opposite of faith is certitude. What is Ultimate cannot be defined or contained.

As I dare to explore different ways of writing, I offer to you what follows. This writing became a poem, although it started as prose. At first, I was reluctant to publish this. For some reason, offering poetry feels a bit more vulnerable. Then I remembered that vulnerability is a practice I am exploring, and that this is “The Wild Soul Experiment” after all!

Note: This poem came out of a long-awaited vacation with my husband back in March. We traveled far south in the Caribbean, down to Aruba, which is close to the equator.

The Color of Context

By Kim Reindl

While traveling south,

I wonder at how the light shines differently when it is closer to the equator.

At how that which is closest to the heat

breaks forth with the richness of color.

I wonder at how sunsets last for almost an hour

and the fullness of the spectrum unfolds

with every shifting angle of the sun.

I wonder at how the sky is not just blue,

but light blue, simply blue, rich blue, then darker blue as it moves upward.

At how the water is not just green,

but turquoise, aqua, and navy as it moves out toward the horizon.

I wonder at how context forms me.

How am I to know what I have not seen?

How am I to imagine what I have never experienced?

How am I limited by what has only been mine?

What if my own salvation is not known by the angle of my vision,

but rather, through the curvature of the light?

The Spectrum of Colors 35 Minutes After Sunset, Aruba, March 2025

Reflection

When I journeyed to Aruba in March, I was struck by the way the light made everything look different. I have heard about special light in places like Paris. I have also experienced the difference in the light in the time between dusk and dark… in the way there is a golden glow that can be caught at just the right moment, if you are looking for it. What I was not expecting was the way the sun’s rays refracted so close to the equator. How the colors of everything, especially sky and water, became much more layered and complex.

The difference in the light made me think about how context affects our point of view. How viewing things in a different light can change what is seen and what is noticed. How the the angle of the light can change what is viewed.

Simply being in a different setting can offer a different way of seeing even common things like sky and water. A different place, a different location, can offer a different lens through which to see the world.

As expressed in the poem above, the blue of the sky in Aruba was not the same as the blue of the sky that I see every day from my own back yard. The light bent in a way that revealed a very light, almost greenish blue sky closer to the ground that continued to darken as it rose into the atmosphere.

The sunset was revealing as well. We were able to sit on the beach and observe nature’s light show that lasted for almost an hour, even after the globe of the sun dropped below the horizon. Remarkably, the full prism of color unfolded over that time, offering the multiple expressions of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet.

In that different context, time seemed to expand like the light. I suppose this is what people mean by island time. The people moved more slowly. Life seemed more relaxed. When the power went out at a small brewery we were visiting, the owner kept the place open. He said, “This happens sometimes. We’ll hang out for awhile and see if it comes back on. In the mean time, can I get you another beer?” The power never did come back on, but my husband and I enjoyed a long conversation with the owner. We mused about life, culture, and our general thoughts about things.

My experience in Aruba prompts me to think that changes in context just may be a doorway into mystery. The habitual nature of everyday life can be like experiencing life through the beam of a flashlight. Vision is made possible through such light, but that vision is limited. Habitually, my eyes focus on what is known. It is simply easier to see things, to see people, as I have always seen them. After all, habitual ways of seeing do serve us. Predictable ways of moving through life free up space to engage our brains in other ways. Yet, what is common comes at a cost.

Perhaps, when things become too common, too known, this is how mystery and wonder become diluted or lost. Perhaps in our habitual ways we forget how to delight in life’s mysteries. Yet, when the context changes, if we are open and not fearful, we may begin to see even common things in a new way. Standing in a new place, literally or metaphorically, can cause the angle of the light to shift. In a new context, our field of vision may change. The mysteries below the surface of things may burst forth with the beauty and wonder that have been there all along.

With love and gratitude,