Looking at the sunrise this morning, I was struck by the beauty of some shadow patterns in the clouds, the shadow of one cloud on another.
And it struck me that the only possible variation in darkness requires the presence of light. Pure darkness is pure formlessness. Any form requires a contrast.
In the Harry Potter books, Voldemort feels the need to observe the outer form of a duel when he attacks Dumbledore in the 5th book. And I have long seen how evil needs the contrast with goodness, with culture, to support itself. The Devil, we are told, is an impeccable gentleman.
Darkness, then, is the movement away from form, and Light the movement towards it. But in our world we need both. As Lao Tzu said, light requires heavy and up requires down.
That was the first thing I wanted to say.
Secondly, it seems to me that the process of healing trauma is that of imagining in the gut a completely new world, a new sort of experience, unlike any other. This applies at least to those of us unable to remember a world in which we did not feel constant fear.
And there is a homology with this in genuine religion. To take seriously the presence of God, and the necessity of service for optimal well-being is, in our present society, liminal, insane, out of bounds.
It is tempting to hope that emotional and spiritual growth can happen steadily and gradually. It can do so over long periods of time, but there are periodic qualitative gaps which can only be crossed with faith and imagination.
This is the role, I think, that crazy ideas like those mentioned in the previous post play, for me. And rationally, I still do mean everything I said.