![image](https://img.esteem.ws/7tdyuvppne.jpg)
My mind is still spinning from the beauty of last weekend at the #LightsFestival (@thelightsfest) - watching thousands of people light lanterns in unison - setting wishes, hopes, prayers, dreams, and notes to deceased loved ones into the sky.

I've never experienced anything like this - the harmony, the peace, the total release. I was with my boyfriend's son and he wrote a letter to his father who's currently working a job across the country; I wrote a prayer. Across from us, a mother lit a lantern for her unborn child; a daughter sent a note to her brother she lost to suicide; three rows down a couple exchanged marriage vows in their suit and gown.

People were crying, and laughing, and talking, and praying, and standing in silence as the thousands of little lights set free into the Southern California air. I blinked back tears as I watched, in awe of the beauty even I, as a writer, couldn't quite put into words.

My boyfriend's son, tugging at my shirtsleeve asked where the lanterns went. I told him that when each light burn out, the wish would come true and then the paper would fall back to earth. And in that moment, I truly believed that.

There was something magical about the love, the gentleness, the compassion that was ignited through every soul and lantern in that evening sky. I felt a sense of peace - no, everything wasn't going to be suddenly perfect, or less messy, or always make sense - but we would be alright, each and every one of us. We would break, and heal, and learn, and grow, and make something beautiful out of our pain. And then, like these lanterns, we will one day burn out. But what an incredible journey it will be.