Afraid of the Dark

When I was nine years old, my two older brothers had already moved out, and there were just two of us left. Naturally, my next older brother got the larger bedroom with the twin bed, and I got the smaller bedroom with the older double bed. Ordinarily, this was ok with me, but when we had company, I moved to the huge sectional sofa in the living room just off my Mom and Dad’s bedroom. I dreaded sleeping there because I would have to deal with the snarling gorilla that stood at the end of the room.

It happened every night. The room would start echoing with growls and snorts in the middle of the night. I woke and would see a huge, dark, hulking shape at the far end of the room next to my parent’s bedroom. It never moved. It just stood there and stared at me. I laid awake for hours until falling asleep from exhaustion.

 

After being diagnosed with sleep apnea, I remembered these terrifying nights and sorted them out. My Dad also had sleep apnea. His snoring was almost as scary as the moments when he would quit breathing altogether. That silence was worse than the snoring. But as a 9-year-old, I did not hear the silence, only the growling. And the enormous upright piano that sat outside my parent’s door transformed into a hulking gorilla that threatened anyone on the sofa.

 

When we see a mystery, our mind struggles to explain it. Mysteries are acceptable only when we tell ourselves that there is a “perfectly reasonable explanation” for them.   Until we define them, they evoke fear. Unfortunately, unreasonable explanations become gospel as long as that unreasoned fear exists. We can let go of the fear and enjoy the mystery when a reasonable explanation comes along. But reason will never explain every unknown. If we are to have a relationship with the mystery, we will need to develop a healthy respect for it.

 

Respect is the key to any healthy relationship. Respect means allowing room for the other person to be who they are without falling back on prejudices or biases to understand them.   The same is true of mysteries in our lives. We need to allow a mystery to be what it is, an unknown. We cannot rush to judgment about it. We need to resist those unreasonable explanations and wait for the mystery to explain itself in its own time. We must respect the unknown and trust that it has something important to share. And then listen to the mystery, not through our fears, but with the utmost respect. 

 

Many mysteries refuse to yield their secrets. We must then live with the snarling gorillas, the unrelenting mysteries. We need to double down on respect and refuse to give in to our fears in such situations. We need to trust the mystery until it reveals itself. Let the mystery be what it is, an unknown. Allow it to probe our soul and teach us about ourselves. Allow it to suggest new ways of seeing our world that may peel back a layer or two of the unknown. And, when all else fails, sit back and marvel at the mystery and soak up the wonder and awe that it offers. A frightened 9-year-old would have gotten a lot more sleep on that sofa if I had done this.