The Painting, The Light, and The Legacy
In May 2024, I spent three days on a Transcendental Meditation retreat, a perfect immersion into stillness, silence, and the deeper practices of the Siddhi Programme.
For over twenty years, I’ve returned to the same beautiful venue, Oxon Hoath, a house and garden that has quietly held the energy of hundreds of meditators. It has been, for me, a little slice of heaven on earth.
At the end of the weekend, we were told that the house had been sold to a private buyer and would be restored to a home again. The news landed deeply. Perhaps because I was already in such an open, heightened state after days of meditation, I felt the loss keenly. Nostalgia washed over me, for the people I’d met there, the laughter, the quiet moments of awakening, and for our wonderful teacher, Colin, who had created such a sacred space.
Before leaving, I wandered through the rooms one last time, saying goodbye to each corner like an old friend. My final stop was the library. And there she was – the painting.
For twenty years, I’ve sat in front of that painting, curled in one of the library’s plush armchairs, the scent of wood smoke and incense thick in the air. I’d read, write, rest, and then lose myself in her image.
At first, I thought she was a woman fighting to escape the darkness and move toward the light. But this time, I saw her differently.
She wasn’t escaping.
She was inviting.
With one hand, she pointed back toward the shadows, not in fear, but in truth. A calm, unwavering invitation to see the dark, to know it, to accept it.
Only then could she, could we, step into the light.
In that moment, I understood the painting as a portrait of alchemy, the transformation of lead into gold, of pain into wisdom, of darkness into light.
It reminded me that we cannot create beauty by denying the darkness.
We create beauty when we acknowledge what is, and then consciously choose what comes next.
Every day, we get to choose.
A Small World, A Beautiful Circle
When I shared this reflection on Facebook, something extraordinary happened.
One of my Regional Directors, Joanne Sumner, reached out to tell me that the artist who painted that piece was her stepfather Charles Hardaker.
After twenty years of knowing Joanne, I had never made that connection. What a small and magical world.
When Joanne shared my post with her family, they told her how touched they were to learn of the painting’s impact on me, all those years of quiet inspiration I’d carried without ever knowing its creator.
And then, in the most generous gesture, they gifted me a print of the painting.
At our LEGACY event, I shared this story, how Charles’s art had spoken to me for decades, and how, through a single post and a heartfelt connection, his legacy continues to touch lives. Poignant now as Charles had recently passed away.
Because that’s what legacy is, it’s not just what we leave behind, but the ripple we create in others, often without ever knowing.
Every interaction, every connection, every act of creation leaves a trace.
We never truly know the impact we have on others.
But when we create and give from a place of truth and light, as Charles did, that impact continues long after we’re gone.
Here’s to the beauty of small worlds, divine timing, and the endless legacy of light we each have the power to create.
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