Darkness. Noun.  The absence of light.  It is absolute.  No tiny pinpricks of hope shine through its stifling depths.  At night, darkness is referred to.  But in the night, the stars still shine as miniature outlets of hope, and the moon sheds her pale light upon the tiny believers far below.  No, there is not absolute darkness in the night.  There are always the vast wastelands of fear and hopelessness that seem to swallow us up, smother our anguished cries, but there are also the tiny handles of hope, hidden in the darkness of fear, to which we grasp, knowing always that we must hold on, but also that there will come a time when we must let go.

This theme, this single message, lies amongst the pages of our lives, crying out plaintively to us.  “I am not lost in years gone past!  Heed me now!  Do not let go!  Do not hold on too long!”  So confused is the message, and yet so clear.  However muddled it may be, though, it is as relevant today as it has ever been.  Quite simply, it is telling us this: hold on to hope, but let go the pain of the world.

Fear.  Constant, unquenchable fear.  Though most of us have never experienced it in such a degree that it paralyzes, at some point a desperate fear has seized us all, and only the slightest glimmer of hope has kept us from slipping into madness in its swirling masses.  The hope of life.  Whatever situation the fear was born of, it is inflicted by the hope of life.  By the laws of nature and human instinct, the desire to live is utmost.  This awakens in us the strength to hold on, even as our fingers are pried away by the evil confines of death.  Time after time, our grasp will slip, and we will fling our hands in terror towards something, anything, to hold onto.  When we find it, there in the darkness, we will hold fast, tighter than ever before.  And then—a whisper—let go, let go…  Such a peaceful thought…no!  It is the fear, consuming the mind in its sly, cunning tricks!  Whisper, whisper…yes, it is the fear speaking, but the fear is rational.  Mindless, perhaps, but always rational.  It knows when to let go.  Though we may fight, struggle against its oh-so-gentle yet oh-so-strong persuasive tools, it knows.  There is a time to hold on, and there is a time to let go.  Always, the message is the same.  Fear, in any time, place, or form, is constant and unchanging.  Breathe in, breathe out.  Hold on…let go.