Dark Places

Darkness cannot be dissected.

But where there is some light, or rather evidence of light (as opposed to sources of light), one can at least describe the shadows that are cast.

First Shadow:
Grief has a cumulative impact, or rather an erosive effect. The last two funerals I conducted were of children, both of whom I had baptized (and both "unconventionally"). I have known the parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents of each for many years. The first died at about eighteen years, the second at eighteen days. The first delayed my family's vacation; the second interrupted my family's Thanksgiving dinner. That should be unimportant; I only mention it because it is in the shadow.

Second Shadow:
Anxiety is not the same as worry or fear. Anxiety is awareness unchecked; alertness unregulated. Every sermon, every software project, every business presentation, every e-mail conversation, every family dinner, every swing in golf -- each summons from the self a measure of energy and concentration requisite to its task. Excellence demands that the flow of internal resources be quick and focused, prompt and precise. Endurance requires that it be thoughtfully measured and carefully dispensed. Entropy insists that it be balanced with rest and replenishment. Excellence, Endurance, and Entropy do not always play nice with each other.

Third Shadow
Depression is an impostor, its true identity concealed behind a wardrobe of capes and masks. The mechanistic measurement of serotonin levels falls short of naming this mysterious demon. Distinctions of cause and effect, of source and symptom, are clouded and blurred, as are the boundary lines of severity. "Eat right and exercise more" sounds to the depressed ear more like attribution of blame ("... you lazy glutton") than admonition, as does most well-intentioned advice from friends and family. "Work less" gets translated as "Quit trying"; "Don't take life so seriously" becomes "Nothing really matters anyway." Perhaps an antithesis to anxiety, depression, like an empty canyon, has no voice of its own, but echoes a thousand thoughts and cries until their sound and meaning are confused and depleted.

The Cave
The shadows seem real, as real as anything ever is. If in fact they only negate, then they reveal by concealing. What is not seen is what matters most. The dark contrasts give evidence to the light coming in; the light not there proving the light which should be, must be, available, accessible, just outside the cave door.

Now, if I could only remember how I got into this cave, perhaps...