I love rainbows. Even if I’m the one making a rainbow appear with a gardening hose, every time I see one, it feels like a gift. They speak to me of joy, promise, and beauty. The other week, I learned something about rainbows that makes me love them even more. You might already know this, but first off, a rainbow is an optical illusion. It doesn’t exist in a specific spot in the sky – it appears depending on where you’re viewing it and where the sun or other source of light is shining.
You, as the viewer, have the light source behind you, and the rainbow is the imaginary point exactly opposite the light source, which is called the “antisolar point.” Below is a nifty graphic illustrating this.
Rainbows form like this!
As you can see from the image, rainbows are full circles, and the antisolar point is at the center of the circle. Essentially, what this means is you are the center of every rainbow. And here’s where I think it gets even cooler. Per National Geographic, “[N]o one sees the same rainbow—each person has a different antisolar point, each person has a different horizon. Someone who appears below or near the ‘end’ of a rainbow to one viewer will see another rainbow, extending from his or her own horizon.”
The rainbow moves as you move. As this science website puts it, “Essentially, an infinite cone is formed with the viewer at the point, the rainbow as the surface of the cone, and the antisolar line as the central axis. A cone is made because the [water] drops are spherical, and the light that exits them is angled, which forms a cone when spun around…Each person has their own cone that waterdrops will reflect.”
We have our own little cone to create a rainbow. Photo by Mathias Reding on Unsplash
Each person has their own cone. Each person has their own rainbow. And more than that, we are each encased in our own rainbow circle. It’s special and unique to us, even if we’re standing next to someone else looking at the same thing. It’s not quite the same rainbow because fundamentally, we are each the center of every rainbow. This reminds me of a concept from my spiritual tradition.
My spiritual teacher says that the secret of meditation is to think the Divine Beloved is meditating on you, not the other way around. The secret is to imagine we are each being showered with untold bliss and love – not that we have to go chase after it or think of the thing that we love. It’s to hold the ideation that we are the center of love, that we are the beloved. To me, learning that we are the center of every rainbow is a physical manifestation of that idea. I’m looking out, seeing something beautiful and precious, but I am at the center of it. That beautiful and precious thing wouldn’t exist without me there to witness it.
I dream of a world where we remember we are each being showered with love all the time. A world where we understand we don’t have to seek outside ourselves for something beautiful, precious, or unique. A world where we recognize every rainbow is just for us. A world where we remember, we are the center of every rainbow.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Last week my neighbor’s car was broken into while it was parked in our gated lot. Normally when something like that happens, I immediately assume I’m next. Never mind that I don’t have a car, a break-in of some sort is inevitable! It doesn’t even have to be a break-in, it could be getting bit by a spider; if we’re in the same vicinity and something happens to you, I think the same thing will happen to me.
I had an interesting experience the other that showed me this is far from being true. What happens to other people won’t automatically happen to me. Two people can occupy the same physical space and have completely different experiences.
As I rode the bus on Thursday, I looked out the window and noticed the barest glimmer of a rainbow, which I tried to capture on my phone.
It was so hard to capture this rainbow. Sorry you can barely see it. =(
I started texting everyone and my mother, so excited was I about this rainbow, especially when the bus crested a hill and I noticed the rainbow ringed the sun – it wasn’t a vertical rainbow like I normally see, this rainbow arced from one side of the sun to the other.
In contrast, the two women sitting in front of me on the bus didn’t notice a thing. They were caught up in complaining about their health problems and various other troubles. Here I was having a transcendent moment, marveling at the beauty of the world, and in the same physical space, the women in front of me were not. This episode demonstrated to me that sharing physical space is not an indicator I’ll share the same experience. This means my neighbor can get her car window smashed and I can be fine. This means I can be safe even when others are not. This means other people’s realities don’t have to be mine.
I’m not sure I can convey my sense of relief here, but there’s something freeing about coming to recognize what happens to other people won’t necessarily happen to me. That I can occupy the same zip code but not the same reality. I can witness rainbows and butterflies while other people are gabbing on the bus. My life can be different even when we’re sharing the same oxygen and there’s something hopeful and liberating about that.
I dream of a world where we all live in rainbow realities. A world where we understand our realities are different from those around us, even if we’re in the same spot. A world where we recognize we each have our own lives and what’s common may not apply. A world where we witness the rainbows.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.