Derailed fnl pass
9/8/09
11:00 AM
Page 13
DERAILED
fool’s errand in the making. “Remember, no flashlights until I give the okay!” our instructor repeated. The descent into oblivion was memorable! Eventually we switched on our flashlights and the pageantry began. Bluish squid propelled themselves like ghosts across the expanse. Luminescent shrimp danced sideways on the ocean f loor. Sea snakes weaved in and out of holes in the coral heads as if they were auditioning for Stephen King’s latest novel. To see clearly we must sometimes look into the darkness. To see what is really there, we must be willing to enter space, which appears devoid of the normal light on which we so heavily rely. The keenest insights into human behavior may emanate from our willingness to look not at what is light but what is dark . . . not from what is seen but what is unseen. Paradoxically, looking into darkness can be remarkably enlightening. Our culture’s obsession with perfection makes us reluctant to look at our own duality—that some of our impulses are noble, while others are not so benevolent . . . not that we’ve gone over to the dark side, but just that we have a dark side. Maybe we acknowledge our light and dark sides in a detached, abstract way, but to really open the door and look into the darkness isn’t so easy. It’s as though we have a quasi-dark side. Some might admit to having a “diet dark side”—just one calorie of dark side. Even in our most glaringly candid moments, we’re reluctant to acknowledge that some of our inclinations are, at least, ineffective, if not dishonorable. Denial provides a safe way to sidestep our tension . . . or at least it seems that way. 13
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