Between Light and Darkness: A Struggle for Meaning
It is getting harder to continue writing—there is so much to say, yet sometimes it feels as though none of it matters. I’ve spoken at length about humanity’s struggles, the environmental crises, and the personal battles I face in this body, mind, and soul. It feels as though I’ve said everything, but the words seem to fade into insignificance as the problems of the world remain vast, unyielding, and seemingly beyond my control.
Lately, I feel lost in a limbo, torn between light and darkness, right and wrong, good and evil, happiness and sadness. My emotional and mental state is disturbed. I feel as though I am fighting a losing battle, trying to keep my mind in check amidst the flood of compulsive thoughts over matters I have very little influence on. I struggle to maintain my spiritual practice, even as I allow myself to be exposed to the world’s suffering, which I feel personally accountable to, as a member of this planet.
There are times when I just want to give up—"fuck it," as the voice in me says. There’s only so much one can endure, so much one can do to make a difference. Maybe it’s time to accept with right understanding and let go, knowing that everything is inevitable. “Such is, meant to be.” Perhaps empathy with detachment is the answer, but the struggle remains.
I feel like I am watching an epic movie—one I’ve written and directed—slowly grinding to a halt, like a Juggernaut. Seventy years of humanity's evolution toward a grand finale, minus the popcorn. Is this what aging feels like? Or is it the culmination of my own journey, my mind grappling with the workings of the human condition?
If I were to truly accept the teachings of Non-Duality—the words of Sri Ramana Maharshi, Papaji, Swami Vivekananda, or Swami Yogananda—then perhaps I am failing. There’s too much suffering in the world, and I feel overwhelmed by it.
Closer to home, yesterday, Yoda, my beloved kitten, was found dead twelve floors down. My daughter’s tears broke my heart as she sat on the sofa, clutching a pillow. Yoda was a part of our family, but I reminded myself, "Let go." This is the lesson life teaches us again and again.
As I reflect on the violence spreading across the world—whether in India, Germany, Syria, Yemen, or Palestine—I wonder, where is the humanity in all this? The Dark Side of the Moon comes to mind, with its haunting lyrics:
"Us, us, us...and them, them, them...Black, black, black and Blue, blue, blue blur..."
It seems there’s always someone to blame, but is the fight really between them and us? Or is it something deeper—something that we are all complicit in, without truly understanding it?
Violence spreads like a disease, whether it’s a virus or a mindset. The aggression, the bloodshed, the ignorance—it is as though we are caught in a cycle of self-destruction. I ask myself, is this my projection? Are these the consequences of my own greed, hate, and delusion? Perhaps, collectively, it is the collective unconscious of humanity that drives these patterns.
We may not be able to change the world, but as J. Krishnamurti said, "We can change ourselves." But how? When most of humanity remains blind to the truth, lost in survival mode, we have moved beyond the principle of survival of the fittest. Now we live in the grip of killing for killing’s sake. A life for every bullet we manufacture.
How can I clear these thoughts of doom and gloom from my mind? I fear not just for myself but for my children, and theirs. The future looks bleak. I see China’s triumph in landing a craft on the dark side of the moon, and I wonder, how can I feel triumphant when such atrocities are being committed? Muslims in China are tortured and imprisoned in re-education camps, just as Tibetans were before them.
Is there any part of my subconscious that is not destructive? Am I living in an illusion of my own making? Is this the reason that the Hindu sages speak of renunciation and detachment from this world of Maya—this world of illusion?
Where is God in all of this? Can I find God in the suffering, in the chaos, in the destruction we see around us?
As Pink Floyd’s lyrics echo:
"And if the dam breaks loose too soon, and if there's no room up on the hill... There's someone in my head, and it's not me... And if the band you're in plays a different tune, I'll see you on the Dark Side of the Moon."
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