When I was little, I remember being afraid of the dark. A common phobia for many children. We associate the darkness with fear. Those lights go out, and our subconscious suddenly becomes pregnant with every sort of nightmare. They awaken in closets, corners, and worst of all, under the fucking bed. I'd stare at the ceiling for what felt like hours, certain that if I went to sleep, I'd open my eyes to find some malignant horror standing over me with bared teeth and flaming red pupils.
I'm smirking as I write this. It's funny, how something that was once genuinely unsettling can seem powerless; indeed, almost silly, years later. Fear of the dark is really fear of the unknown. And if something frightens us for its lack of familiarity, we make it familiar by splashing grim and terrifying shades of demonization all over it, if only to reassure ourselves that there's a reason to be scared.
In this way, such an "irrational" fear has followed us into adulthood. The monsters in the closet have been locked up tight. The only difference is that now, they actually exist. Innumerable doubts, insecurites and suppressed emotions rattling the doorknob from within, haunting the shadows of our mind. We settle for tiptoing inside just long enough to turn on the light, daring only just enough to remain convinced of our bravery. Yet, along with everything else, we have locked away the very thing that should be brought to light:
Desire.
For many, darkness is synonymous with evil. Considered disdainful. The realm of death and danger. More than anything, this is an indication of the things we fear to aknowledge as well those we wish to accept. If the darkness scares us, it's because we're unwilling to look at our own face in the glass. We've been taught--we've been conditioned to ignore our deepest desires and instincts. Ferocity has been silenced, replaced by a voice of total aqcuiescance, total obedience. Every day, our lips say "yes", when our heart says "no," bowing to the expectations of others and tossing away our personal power, our individuality. Our self imposed slavery needs to die, so that the sweat, the passion and delight, can thrive.
A moonless night. The silence of the womb. Within these lies gestation. Transformation. And the parts of ourselves that enable us to be every bit as glorious and free as we wish to be. It is only in recovering what is found in that darkness, that the light can reveal it to benefit all.
So go ahead. Open the closet.
The only thing you have to lose is your fear.
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