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The Dark

I have long avoided the macabre.  I haven’t read Edgar Allen Poe, and have written, here and elsewhere, at length about my misgivings about horror movies, and violence in media in general. 

I continue to have those misgivings, to some extent–particularly for young minds and spirits–but I am growing.  I am expanding.

And what I am seeing is that you cannot find what you have hidden in the dark if you are afraid to go there.  Psychological growth, in the sense of finding and untying various covert and often deeply unconscious knots, is a bit like a scavenger hunt.  Our psyche is like a house where half the rooms are lit, and half are not.  The things that matter are scattered uniformly.  You can find the obvious easily enough, but it takes some patience and blind fumbling to find what is hidden in spaces you cannot see.

I am beginning to understand evil, and how to cast it out from myself.  We all have it; we are all capable of it.  We are all moral midgets in some respect.  We all not only fall short, but cast out the light, at many times and places in our lives.  You can only avoid this process by finding all of your evil, and digesting it.  I am tempted to say by accepting it, but that is not quite right.  You observe it, and after a time the light of attention causes it to become weaker and less dense, and eventually it dissolves and dissipates.

There is no actual darkness in this universe.  What we see as darkness are shades we draw across the windows in our souls, that keep the light from coming in.