I am afraid of the dark.
I don’t need much light, a candlelight will do.
Ever since I can remember, I have always been a little spooked when the lights go out. As a child, I always had a nightlight, or something to illuminate, at least, some part of my room. Even today, if I am by myself, and the power cuts out, it takes me a moment to get myself together. The sane part of my brain (which is minuscule, by comparison) knows that it is silly to be afraid of the dark, but that doesn’t help me much. I still get scared.
I don’t need much light, a candlelight will suffice. I only need enough light to travel from room to room. I need to be able to get to the switch in the next room, or see the walls of the area ahead. A candle will provide me with all of the necessary vision to function with relative ease and comfort.
I will tell you something else….
I am afraid of the light.
I’m probably more afraid of having too much light than I am of having total darkness. I don’t want to see everything that there is in front of me, inside of me, on me , and around me. All of the ugly parts, the scars, the imperfections, and the defects, if exposed to too much light, the world will see them, and THAT is scary.
If there is too much light, I will realize the roughness of the terrain ahead. I will see all of the snakes, spiders, alligators, and tigers that I might possibly have to pass in my travels. I will see all of the problems and heartaches, and emotional distress that potentially lie ahead. I will see all of the obstacles and difficulties and sadness that I might face in the future. I don’t need these worries. I don’t need to see the entire map. I just need a little illumination, a candlelight will do.
Yet, I ask for more light.
I am provided with as much light into the future as I have ever needed. Sometimes, I have felt alone, and in the dark, but it turns out that the world was lit perfectly. Although the candle seemed dim, it’s function served purpose. I ask to see more, so that I might better maneuver the world ahead, but that is not what is best for me. Too much light provides me too much information. Information that I am ill-equipped to process in any way other than served by candlelight.
The spotlight is too much. It’s too hot. It’s too overwhelming.
I appreciate the candlelit life. It has always provided enough.
I will concern myself with only what I can see with the light provided to me. Any more than that is a stab in the dark.
Peace, Love, and all things Beef related,