I forget to ask myself.
for long, long periods of time.
I am afraid I will wake up and be sixty
and not have fixed anything
Can you imagine how you would mourn? Worse, I would imagine myself as good as dead and slouch on toward death, which I would barely notice. Is that true? Forward action is the most frightening thing, it keeps me immobile. Waking up is all anyone ever has to do, the rest is play, and wants to be there, does not call you to extricate yourself, a joy.
"Verily all things move within your being in constant half-embrace, the desired and the dreaded, the repugnant and the cherished, the pursued and that which you would escape.

These things move within you as lights and shadows in pairs that cling.

And when the shadow fades and is no more, the light that lingers becomes a shadow to another light.

And thus your freedom when it loses its fetters becomes itself the fetter of a greater freedom."

This is a whole lot better than what I was going to say, which was:

"I dunno."

I move in the shadows between the abyss and the sunlight. Part of me in each world. Sometimes I am deathly afraid to turn my face to the sunlight and feel its warmth, as if, for some reason, I feel I don't deserve it. Or I can't trust the light to keep the darkness at bay, so I always keep one part of me in the blackness, to keep watch for anything that might come for me.

Or maybe what I can't trust is myself, can't trust me to fully slough off the black; always wary that I might hurt someone with darkness that I thought I had left behind.

So I let that part of me live because I can't live without it. It sits and waits, a sniper waiting for a clean shot. Sometimes, I forget it's there, and briefly, for one perfect moment, I am truly alive.

At this moment the scales tip toward the good.
I play in the light, revel in it, joyously watch my children in it.

I am watched over from the shadows, angels who say nothing, mutely watching, sleep comes
and I rest well, food is a pleasure again.
Despair has vanished, laughter is spontaneous again!

The darkness has retreated for now and I am happy.
Tears run down my face from the sad song playing on the car radio and I let them dry there on my cheeks not caring who sees, only because I am so very grateful that I can feel again.

There is great audacity in the willingness to transform, and more than a little optimism.
Hope began in the dark, the stubborn hope that if I just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. I wait and watch and work: I don't give up.

'As long as I have hope I have direction, the energy to move and the map to move by.
I have a hundred alternatives a thousand paths, an infinity of dreams.'

Darkness is not a thing to be shunned. At times I am more interested in black than white, more attracted to not knowing than knowing. I welcome light when I feel the need for illumination, but it is not always useful.

I am only truly alive when I acknowledge both the darkness and light within me, as long as I don't let them meld into grey.

I am in the dark.
I sit silently in my corner,
Yearning for the light
Yearning for the fun i see in the people there
But it is always beyond my grasp...

The darkness launches attacks,
Tries to invade my soul.
Often, for a time, it succeeds...

But though it wins the battle,
The war continues to be fought.
Somehow, a single candle flame of hope remains alight inside.

i protect this fragile flame from the monster,
The demon lurking just outside the glow
Waiting for an opportunity,
A lapse in my attention,
To swoop in and destroy me.

Or from an insidious sneak attack,
the sending of lesser demons
To wear down the defenses.
Constantly on guard, i have little time to strive for greater light...

Sometimes I think that I can see better in the dark than in the light. In the darkness, all I see is your face catching the soft light from the window, the dark-on-darker rise and fall of your chest as you breathe. In the light I am bombarded with distractions, colors and shapes that demand my attention but still cannot compare to this perfection I see in darkness.

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