Becoming Whole

An illustration in the form of a story

I stand on a flat plane glowing white and made of light. There is one other here with me, the divine, and source of the light radiating from this plane. He does not talk much, but when he speaks it shakes everything and rebuilds pieces and rooms. There are a few doors leading to other rooms, most are open wide and allow the light through, but one is closed and behind it lies darkness. This darkness is not a mystery, for I put it there. Locked it away long ago and sealed it tightly as I could. Still, its strong and pushes back from time to time, often winning and taking control. It lasts only a short time before growing weak and allowing me to cram it back into its designated room. I put it there to trap it and isolate it, but it grows stronger the longer it dwells unfighting, saving its power for an opportune time to take control. I fight with all my might each time while the divine stays still, unhelping. At times he even seems to leave me entirely to struggle on my own. I almost always lose. Why would the divine, the source of light, not aide me in my fight against this darkness? The questioned plagued me at one time until I accepted that perhaps this was my battle to fight. Maybe that's how the light is earned, by battling the dark. A day finally came where the divine spoke ever so softly of the room the darkness was locked in. "What is it the darkness wants?" I knew I had no true answer. I could make guesses, but I'd be wrong. I'd always fought, never watched. Tried to lock it away, never listened. It took some time to follow the direction the divine had given. One day, finally, when the darkness began its assault I opened the door willingly. To my surprise, though I should have known better, the light began to creep into the room. No darkness escaped, maybe there was none. No terror or darkness walked out, no evil or demons, but a man. It was me, or a part of me. One I'd never met before, or perhaps he'd changed from all the time locked up in that room. I watched, rather than fought, as he took control. The things he did may not have been wise, but they were not evil, they were human. I soon understood that I needed to know him to know myself. I may still need to be careful of the actions and permissions I give him, but I cannot lock him away again. Since I opened the door the battling has stopped and we've been at peace. If I were to lock him away again he'd torture me again, as he had all this time. He is me. There is no use fighting myself endlessly. Now there is only the matter of working out our cooperation. I know him little, but I ask and I listen, hoping to understand. The room he came from is still partially dark, but slowly the light is filling it. Spreading the glow onto the darkened floor. I've begun to see now that there may be more like him through there. Maybe even there are deeper doors to be opened. Only time will tell. The activity has changed from fighting the darkness to exploring the depths. The goal now is not to become perfect, but whole.

Author's Note

Thoughts and constructive criticism welcome on both the content/ideas, as well as the delivery/writing style. Thank you for reading!