perspective

what if everything we've been conditioned to believe is wrong?

what if our perspective of darkness changed, and instead of it being something that creepers and scaries hid in, it was something beautiful, something to be embraced, something we ourselves could hide in--not for frightening, or less-than-honest intentions, but for protection? maybe the dark could be the silk we called our childhood blankie, we could run to it for comfort, hide our emotions and deepest hurts in it, hide the truths about ourselves we didn't want anybody to know.

what if instead of craving light, we perceived it as something to shy away from? it's impossible to hide away from your nightmares in the light. there's no masking scars and pain and the ugliness that comes with human life. in the light everyone can see you for who, or what you are. in the light, there are no secrets. you do not see mere shadows, as you do in dark, of what might be there, but you see in actuality the demons that lay at the end of your bed or in your closet or down the stairs.

as long as we're dissecting perspective, what if dark was really light? what if everything we've been taught about wrong and right, good and evil, bright and colorless, light and dark is wrong? dark could be getting the raw end of the deal; be the misunderstood brother. maybe light is the gloating sibling who nobody sees wrong in and really causes all the trouble that life brings.
maybe darkness is what we should find comfort in, hiding in the woods, climbing into bed, having the power unexpectedly go out. should those be the things we look forward to, instead of waking up to sunshine, nightlights and the comfort of always having a lightswitch to turn to in times of need?
isn't it possible that 'wrong' could be right, 'evil' could be good, 'dark' could be light, and we just don't know it--we're kept in the dark--because of what storybooks and our grandmothers have always told us?

really, what's to be afraid of in the dark? all there is to hide in the shadows is the unknown. but the unknown does not become known by shining a flashlight on it. you can just as easily be ambushed in broad daylight, just as easily be stabbed in the back by a good friend, be blindsided by a life-changing--or ending--accident, and just as easily suffer a broken heart on a beautiful day.

light doesn't change anything. it doesn't ease the pain, it doesn't help anybody by showing off your hurts and scars and flaws, it doesn't comfort you when all you want is to curl in a ball and hide.

darkness comes with beauty; stars and the moon, secrecy and mystery, the ability to decide for yourself who you want to be, because no one there is to see something different and tell you it's wrong. true, unpleasantries can be hiding in the shadows, but it could be better to not always know something terrible was coming and remain blissfully unaware for as long as possible, sometimes not seeing what's coming makes it painless, and ensures that you cannot blame yourself for those i-should-have-seen-it-coming moments.

so. the question remains. what would change of we saw things differently? what if what we were taught to believe, conditioned to perceive, and liked to believe was wrong?

should we continue fearing the dark, or, in reverse, fear the light?