White Light: Between Superstition and Revelation

Orbs of light have been seen as spirits, signs, or unexplained phenomena – straddling the line between superstition and revelation.

“Silent white light filled the world … it does no harm to the romance of the sunset to know a little bit about it – Carl Sagan

For centuries, mysterious orbs of light have appeared in human stories. Sometimes they are described as floating spheres, sometimes as radiant flashes, sometimes as energies that seem alive. They slip. between categories – part spiritual symbol, part natural mystery, part cultural imagination.

In religious traditions, light has almost always signified presence and power. In Christianity, radiant orbs are often linked with angels or manifestations of the divine — a blinding light on the road to Damascus, halos surrounding saints, the “glory” shining in biblical visions. In Buddhism and Hinduism, spheres of light can represent spiritual energy or enlightenment, a visible sign of forces that usually lie beyond human sight. In many Indigenous traditions, glowing orbs are seen as ancestors or protective spirits, watching over the living.

In the modern era, orbs have also entered popular culture. Reports of “ball lightning” appear in scientific records as far back as the 1600s, describing luminous spheres during storms that defy easy explanation. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the rise of spiritualism brought countless stories of “spirit lights” appearing at séances. Later still, in the mid-20th century, orbs became linked to UFO sightings — unexplained lights in the sky, often described as moving intelligently.

Today, most people encounter orbs not in person but in photographs. The rise of digital cameras produced millions of faint, circular spots of light caused by dust, moisture, or reflections close to the lens. While science has an answer for these photographic orbs, they rarely capture the awe of those who claim to have seen them with their own eyes. Eyewitness accounts often describe something much more powerful: not a speck on film, but a presence — radiant, overwhelming, and unforgettable.

Perhaps that is why orbs continue to hold a place in our imagination. They straddle two worlds: the explainable and the inexplicable, the everyday and the otherworldly. Whether interpreted as science, spirit, or symbol, they point to the possibility that not everything around us fits neatly into categories we understand.

Between Fear and Wonder

The stories and legends surrounding orbs have fascinated me for as long as I can remember — perhaps because, long before I read about them, I had encountered one as a child at the age of five.

I woke in the middle of the night to what I can now only describe as a low humming sound. My bedroom curtains were glowing with a strange, white brilliant light. Curious more than afraid, I climbed out of bed, pulled the curtains aside, and froze.

There, just beyond the window, was a radiant sphere of white light – in some way solid, yet radiating in every direction. There was no heat in the light – not like the sun. It simply shone, bright with a cool energy that held me entranced, almost hypnotic in its presence. For what seemed like an eternity, I stood transfixed before the light, caught between fear and wonder. In reality it may have been only a few minutes, and as natural instinct broke through to the surface, releasing me – I ran to my parent’s bedroom to take refuge and find comfort.

I never saw that light again — not in childhood, anyway. Yet it has lingered with me all my life, like a silent companion.

Interestingly, I have always been prone to accidents – through overzealous curiosity, poor decision-making, and of course, peer pressure. Some were serious, most notably my fall down a ravine while hiking in California. Yet somehow, I always came out the other side intact. Certainly not unscathed, but intact. As a child my mother would often say, “the devil looks after his own.” As I grew older, I would recall her words, but found myself wondering: was it really the devil – or was it the encounter with the light – that had been watching over me?

Perhaps it is coincidence. Perhaps imagination. Believing something doesn’t make it true. But believing it might be true has shaped me in quiet ways. It has made me aware that there are mysteries in life that cannot be managed, explained, or fitted neatly into any design. They arrive unannounced, moments of illumination — sudden inflection points where choices, whether conscious or subconscious, bend the direction of your life forever.

You may ask what this post has to do with project management? I see the mysteries of life like the latent conditions one finds in a project — hidden from view until they surface, challenging you to adapt, rethink, or change course. Some will complicate, some will reshape, and some will derail. But some illuminate — and in those moments, the project, like life, can take on a new direction.