There is both light and darkness within each of us.
We can sense them even though we can’t see or touch them.
Our hearts know both these opposites reside within us.
A necessary part of being hu-man—mortal beings brushed with colors of divinity.
I enjoy being with the lightness in me, the pure self that knows who I am and who created me.
But I am too often afraid of that dark being that lives within me. I run from him when he rears his head.
I don’t think he’s the devil. I don’t believe he is evil.
Instead, I have come to believe he is the part of me that life’s chapters have wounded.
He is the innocent child that crouches in the corner of my soul waiting for me to approach him with a candle, a flicker of light, a morsel of wisdom or kindness.
Yet he’s afraid of letting me get too close for fear of being harmed again. And so he crouches deeper within my soul.
Silently mourning at his well of grief.
What would happen if we named the darkness within us? If we learned how to befriend him?
What if we took wearied hands filled with compassion and hearts of courage entering with soft torches the dark place within us where he resides?
Do we have the necessary valor, the hard-fought-for wisdom to enter the dark cave in which he lives, light years inside ourselves?
And if we entered the sacred place of both-and, light embracing dark, would he receive us?
If so, could we be gentle enough to not to disturb him, not to cause him to retreat further with words of blame or accusation, but rather to sit by his side, peering lovingly at him, allowing our eye’s glimmer of hope and compassion to meet his, trusting in time the hope he has lost will be transformed by the light?
The both-and, which lives within each of us, is calling us, inviting us to take the journey inward to find the darkness that is surrounded by light.
Trusting by our wounds we are healed.
brian plachta 3/2014