What do we do about all the small disasters in life? Sometimes they seem so close together, like a concerted team of tragedies. There are so many opportunities to give up, to break down. So many constant, small signs any one of which would be a fine incentive to say, “I’ve had enough.” To give up, to let go, to despair. Why don’t we? Of course some do; some leave another mess behind to return to that home we can’t really remember, where it’s easy to look at things from a different point of view.
But for the rest of us, how–no, why do we keep that encroaching darkness at bay to remain in its heart? There is a part of each of us, well hidden while we’re here, that knows the darkness for the illusion it is. But it is a damn good illusion. It makes it easy to forget control–to feel helpless. When day after day we deal with new pains, of the body and of the mind, when love is a cold and broken hallelujah, we yet hold on–and not simply from fear of the unknown, or of separation. Because the “unknown” is only forgotten, and separation is the essence of the darkness in which we live.
There is–must be–another goal, something else which induces us to keep waking up each morning. It is the drive to find a mirror, to discover at some point that there was a light in that darkness all along, and that that light is ourselves. What a feeling, to see the true glory of who you really are! Because the world really is also full of love and beauty, and in the end it all exists because of you.