I’d like to leave the darkness but I’m frightened by the day

Turn on a light and cockroaches scatter; they have a built in preference for the darkness. They are not necessarily frightened by light itself; it their environment grows steadily brighter rather than becoming fully lit all at once, they will become accustomed to the new situation and happily stay where they are. It’s just not their natural place; they prefer darkness. Humans love the light. We thrive on it and if we are denied a minimum dosage we suffer.

Sunlight helps our body produce vital nutrients; it also allows us to see, which might seem an obvious statement, but is worth mentioning because vision is our primary sense. Dogs rely on their noses to discern and understand their world; bats use their ears to detect their prey; we humans count on our eyes to help us accomplish all that we do; no other sense provides as much information about our environment.

Because light is required for vision to work, it is a necessary thing; again, I’m stating the obvious, but it’s important to understand the full process and how our vision depends on proper illumination in order to function. Light not only makes things visible to us: it makes things possible. Try navigating a forest on a night the moon is hidden by clouds; try reading a book in a dimly lit room; try finding the light switch in a dark house. Two out of three of those tasks might be accomplished using our hands and feet and hearing and smell; one, however, reading a book, would be impossible without light. That’s why I’m placing so much emphasis on the importance of the relationship between vision and illumination; it doesn’t simply help us see our environment; because we humans are also readers, because so much more information can be acquired through the use of our eyes than the shape of a sofa or the size of a spruce, our dependency on light cannot be overstated or emphasized.

The simple act of entering a space floods us with information; with one quick glance we calculate its volume as we determine its shape; we scan the colours of the walls and decorations, examine the furniture, the lighting and a dozen other things that in an instant cause us to make a judgment on the room. It has a homey touch that makes us feel comfortable; cold and sterile and puts us on the spot; it’s scary and spooky, cramped or spacious, we like it or we hate it, impressions made instantly and almost without conscious effort thanks to the ability of our eyes to send us vast amounts of information and of our brains to process it easily and as fast as it comes in. None of this would be possible if the room did not have at least a little bit of light entering into it. Even the degree and intensity light can transform how we perceive it; a dark cramped room that seems terrifying with all its misshapen indiscernible shadows can suddenly become an over-crowded storehouse full of wonders when we see it in full light; a sparsely furnished, seemingly clinical room in bright light might become a warm welcoming space with by the soft glow of candles and firelight. Light matters, not only for being able to see what how a room is filled and shaped, but also for creating a mood within that room.

Real-world impressions, however, are not the sole way we see and perceive our surroundings. The ability to read offered humans an incredible way to view their world unavailable to any other creature. We can take little marks that have no connection with the real world (other than existing within it) and use them to paint as vivid a picture of a room as we can see with our eyes. What’s more, the power of human imagination allows us to create things and spaces that defy the laws of physics and open up new possibilities for the way we live and move. Reading literally opens up new vistas and ways to understand creation and our place within it. Of course, without light reading would be impossible.

For all the positive possibilities light offers there is also a downside to what it can reveal. A lack of light hides not only our environment but the truth as well. A dimly lit room hides the cobwebs in the corners and the dust on the dresser. It prevents us from seeing the crack in the credenza and the flaws in the floor. As long as we are sitting safely and comfortably with just enough light to see the pleasant book in our hands we can remain blissfully ignorant of the mess and chaos of our house or our world. Darkness also hides dangers and gives thieves and brigands cover, allowing them to proceed undetected along their broad, evil avenue. Like cockroaches the prefer the dark nooks and crannies of a room, those with malicious or hateful intent prefer an almost complete lack light; there they can hide; there they can sneak about; there they do their dastardly deeds undetected. Light is there enemy, revealing their activities and through the ways they behave, their true character.

Character is not only brought to light through ones actions; it is also evident in ones beliefs and words. This is the light which frightens so many people. Many people would love to leave the darkness, their fears and their prejudices, their malice and their hate, the pain and their sorrows, but are frightened by what the light might reveal about themselves. It is one thing to feel pain; it is quite another to actually see the sword actively piercing your soul. Yet when we step into the light to actually see our wounds, to see the way a father’s abuse has ruined a daughter’s life, to see the way years of being unloved has left a son incapable of showing love, to see the way a few angry, malicious words once spoken in haste have burdened a teacher with shame and guilt, we can begin to remove the offending item and to begin the process of healing. In the light we can not only see the wounds that cause us to suffer, but also the scars of wounds now healed, the marks of a life lived as best we can, the injuries sustained because we dared to do something rather than nothing. It might be difficult to step into the light and see ourselves as we truly are, but it is also liberating and empowering. There may be scars that mar our once perfect skin and open wounds that need care, but there is also the beauty of our giftedness and talents, of our care and concern for others, of simply being able to see ourselves and marvel at who and what we are, despite our injuries. I’d love to leave the darkness, but I’m not as frightened by the day as I am excited by what the light might reveal.