But we need darkness to tell light apart. Without darkness there would be no light. If we didn’t have eyes, we’d still have some representation of the world in our heads and wouldn’t even complain.

Fortunately, we see. And just as darkness helps us see the light, feeling bad allows us to feel what is good. Otherwise everything would be just meh. But this is also why you can’t be happy all the time. After a while the happiness dissipates and everything starts to feel like nothing. Even the white color begins to fade to gray if you stare at it long enough.

And the cycle continues.

But the darkness that comes from inside has a mechanism. There is a parasite living in the brain. It feeds on fear and suffering — the part that grinds you at night, replays the worst scenarios, keeps you from sleep. Its favorite food is the imaginary: invented negativity becomes real, because it stops you in reality. The world did nothing — and the day is already eaten.

The second course is doubt. Doubt always sounds reasonable. The caring voice of reason: cool down, think logically, the odds are low. You sit and listen, because it’s right. Just notice who is talking. Reason gives its arguments and then moves. The parasite gives arguments so that you won’t.

Telling them apart is simple. Parasite thoughts travel from the outside in — from the feed, from other people’s voices, from old fears. True ones travel from the inside out. And there are two things the parasite doesn’t survive: truth and action. Name the fear out loud — it shrinks. Take a step — and there is nothing left to feed on.

Don’t forget that you’re still alive. All this darkness and emptiness around you is actually the brightest light there is. — Victor Pelevin, “Buddha’s Little Finger”

The Reading List

Darkness comes on its own. Goodness gets chosen.