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Drinking the Light

  • Writer: Christopher E. Servedio
    Christopher E. Servedio
  • Mar 27
  • 2 min read

I lived the way many of us do, eating what was fast, easy, and convenient. I worked on the road. On Long Island, that meant bagels and deli sandwiches grabbed between jobs, pizza by the slice, 7-Eleven coffee. Boxed, bagged, frozen, microwaved. Food that filled me up but left something deeper untouched.


Looking back, much of what I consumed was dead. Devitalized. Stripped of the very thing that gives life its force.


Light.


It took serious illness for me to begin paying attention. After my health collapsed, I wasn't just trying to recover physically. I was trying to reconnect, to my body, to the natural world, and to something larger than myself.


What began changing me was simple.


I started going outside in the morning, barefoot on the earth, face lifted toward the sun. At first it just felt peaceful. The ground was cool. The air was quiet. The light felt warm and alive against my skin.


Then I began juicing.


Fresh organic greens. Fruit. Vegetables that had grown in sunlight, drawn up through soil, rain, and time. When I held them in my hands, they felt alive. When I drank them, something inside me responded.


And one morning, standing in the sun with a glass of green juice in my hand, the thought came to me clearly:


I am drinking the light.


The plants had taken in sunlight and held it, transforming it into something I could receive. What I was drinking was not just nutrients. It was stored sunlight, carried through living systems into my body.


The more I did this, the more I changed.


My mind grew clearer. My energy returned. My body felt lighter, as if something that had been asleep was waking up again.


The fog I had carried for years began to lift.


I started to understand that healing is not always about adding more. Sometimes it begins by subtracting what no longer serves you, and returning.


Returning to the earth beneath us.Returning to the light above us.Returning to the quiet intelligence of the natural world.


Now when I stand barefoot in the morning sun, holding something that grew from it, I no longer feel separate from life.


I feel connected to it.

And I remember what once seemed so far away:

I am drinking the light.

 

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