Hindsight is 2020

As the hue of the sky transition from the radiant orange of dawn to the subtle mauve of dusk so it is that we find ourselves one night closer to where the difference of a day means not just a day, but a new month, a new year, and a new decade.  

In the lull that exists between the high holidays and the beckoning of a new year, it is customary if not innate to our nature that we take a quiet moment to reflect upon the time that has passed and to judge how we measure up.  I pray it will not be a disquieting endeavour, and that you will remain most gentle and kind to yourself throughout the process.  For we are at our most vulnerable in the honest hours between dusk and dawn, when there is nothing to distract us from our inner voices.  

Obviously, there will be numerous examples of imperfections and shortcomings, of foibles and missed opportunities - that's all good, all the reasons to improve upon in the coming year.  But don't be overly self-critical that you invite unnecessary regrets and grief.  Nor allow yourself to be bowed low by any lack of closure, unresolved circumstances, inexplicable experiences, and ineffable emotions.  For if you really look at it, time is a human construct, life moves on, and we cycle through.  

In the words of Alexander Dumas, 
“There is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state with another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, Morrel, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of life. Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget, that until the day God will deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is contained in these two words, 'Wait and Hope.'” 

So it is, my dear friends and family, as you are reading this, that I wish for you in these moments of reflection that you do not give in to despair, nor cave to the "new year new you" mentality to the point that you seek to remove the "old you".  May you find that you are good enough, that your potentials are infinite.  Most importantly, despite what, where, and how you feel you may be lacking, the truth is you are wholesome in my eyes and remain ever so loved. 

I can't wait to hear from you this time next year, I am sure 2020 will be one great year to look back on -  after all, it is truly the year of hindsight.

Make mistakes

I know I am still relatively young, but if there is something I would have liked to tell me younger self it would have been, "I wish you to make more mistakes, or at least have the courage to do so."

You see, we have worked too hard to be prepared, be perfect, to go through life unscathed; and in a way we have been successful, ta-da? But we have been too successful, and because of that we have failed as we remain relatively untried, naive, and easily brought low by circumstances.

I wish you have been more brazen, that you would have gone up to a girl, ask her out, fall madly in love, and be utterly crushed when it didn't work out. I wish you would dared to have taken that random road trip, got on a bus, got utterly lost and had to figure your way back. I wish you would have bought that ticket, flown to a place where you don't know the language, hop on to trains, and visit with people and places that you will never forget.

I wish you have made more mistakes because sometimes life is about blundering through, finding out you were wrong but growing stronger because of it. I wish you have made more mistakes when you have the chance because chances are they would have led to greater things.

I wish you would have made more mistakes when we were younger, because boy it is getting increasingly harder to bounce back as we grow older.

But don't you fret, you remain my inner child, and together we will refuse to be set in our ways, and together we will try not to shy away from future mistakes in hope they will lead us to be a better, polished, well-rounded, wisen person.

Zen - Fear

Teacher: What is the thing you feared most?

Student: That I will not be there when my family needed me the most.

Teacher: Is it really?

Student: That I am not there when my friends needed me the most.

Teacher: Is it really?

Student: That nobody is there when I needed them the most.

Teacher: Is it really?

Student: That I am not there for myself when I needed it most.

Teacher: Ah, there it is.

Understanding perspectives

One of the things I like about my drive to DC on 95 is catching a glimpse of this temple just outside the beltway. As you are coming in from the north, it suddenly looms in front of you, and you think it is dead ahead. Then as you follow the curve of the road, it feels like it is going to be on your left. Then, once you get even closer, you realize it is actually going to be on the right.

I have always been tickled by that, how our perceptions can be so easily manipulated, and that true understanding only becomes clear as we draw near.  Life is filled with such incidences where we feel we know something or expect something just by a precursory glance, but then as we approach closer to the subject, study it, we find our objectives altered.

So... be open to the fact that our perspectives can be changed. Understand that misunderstandings can occurred simply because there is so much to understand - about people, about lives. Our realities shift based upon where we stand, where we are along the journey. What is real to us at a moment in time can be different to the next.  Remember that when speaking with others about their realities.

Kuntsugi -The Art of Being Broken

Growing up I like taking things apart. Clocks, radios, calculators, if they have screws, I have a screwdriver ready. In the process I have voided many warranties while never quite able to put things back together the way they were, not to mention getting them to work ever again. I think it was a source of frustration for my parents.

I suppose it is a sickness, the curiosity to want to know how things work without the wherewithal to ensure they stay working once I have taken them apart. They say if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Boy do I have trouble with that first part. I seem to have the proclivity to break things, take them apart. Things that were perfectly working well ruined because I couldn't leave well enough alone.

One would have hoped that I have become adept at fixing things, but the truth is all I have become is being really really well-acquainted with brokenness. I am a connoisseur of damaged goods, and chief amongst them, myself. I know a lot of the mistakes, missteps, and mishaps. Probably because I have made most of them at one point or another.

I have acquired a whole myriad of ways to be wrong, utterly and profusely wrong. And when I look deep into my soul, I see the many patches that covered old voids from when I crashed, burned, and shattered.

That being said, I hope I never stop having the courage and the curiosity to tease things apart, or risk being hurt in the search for better understanding. No matter how much it may backfire. We can't always fix things, we may not even be able to glue back the pieces together. What matters is we dare to do better. And maybe, just maybe, we keep all the pieces together in the likelihood a fellow tinkerer comes along and fix it once and for all.

Children are empaths

 Here's my secret with working with children. It is mostly about energy. It is understanding that children are generally empaths who can sense the energy around them. The goal then is to meet them at theirs, and project the safest energy you can. 

I know you are supposed to do that for every patient regardless of age, but for me it comes easier with kids. There is just something pure about being in that moment. Nothing else matter. What you are going through outside, however you are feeling, that goes out the window when you are in front of a child.

That child is your whole world, and your goal is to synch energies. Project calm and compassion... it doesnt always work, but it is so rewarding when you find that breakthrough. Only when you allow a child to "see" you, then will they let you see them.

Weakness

The past few weeks have seen me encountered setbacks after setbacks on several fronts, the experience of which has left me feeling drained.  I became tired of trying to be strong, realizing that I am actually weak, and hating myself a little bit more for it.  And my heart took me to some pretty dark places.  

And then, I realize, it has never been really about being strong.  It was not about proving I am worthy, or that I am self-sufficient.  What I went through, that was just life being life.  It is not about deserving or not deserving. Life just is. You live it enough there's going to be highs and lows. What matters is you get through, smiling or crying, intact or damaged. More importantly, believe in your soul. Trust that it will thrive like grass seeping through concrete - it will find a way.  

We keep thinking the soul is this fragile thing, that it can be hurt, and maybe it does, but it always grows back.  That is the beauty of it, insofar as you breathe, the soul revives. Our physical being can be hurt, our hearts broken, but the soul is infinite.  That vastness that we feel when we are alone and down, is the very same expanse that reaches out to the universe.  

Sure, the universe can be frightfully silent at times, but there is actually quite a bit of chatter once you learn to listen.  We just have to trust it.  When all fails, remember our souls are strong, and that it is dialled into something much deeper, older, and humbler.  

So, hold your head up high if only to use the elevation to give your head butts more momentum as you bear through.  And trust in your soul. 

Grace is given, you are loved

The message of the gospel is simple - you are loved and that grace is given. Yet what I have come to learn in my personal journey is that accepting love is not easy. Heck, I struggle with it, daily. Despite all that I know and believe, I have often rejected the very love that I aspire to show others. My wretched existence is unworthy, I don't deserve it, and then I self sabotage to prove my point. 

Perhaps many of you may have experienced something similar - a wayward relative who seems to become increasingly isolated, a dear friend suffering from depression with suicidal tendencies, a child who can't be hugged or consoled. The love is there, why can't they see that and embrace it? 

But it is not as simple as that, is it? See, In a world where we are constantly conditioned for one thing or another, the concept of unconventional positive regard is a scary thing. It is hard to believe that we can be loved with such depth. "What is the catch?" we may ask ourselves, "This doesn't feel right. There is no free lunch", and once again, "I am not worth it."

"I am not worth it." That is perhaps the greatest lie whispered by the fallen angels into our ears. In a cosmic battle of the souls, where the fallen fell because they saw how G-d loved us and was upset, the best way to get back at Him is to tell a soul it is not worth it and reject Him forever. Because that's the catch 22 isn't it? G-d gave us free will that we may choose to embrace or deny Him, so the easiest way to get us away is to choose to distance ourselves from salvation, despite how many times He said, "you are worth it."

So what do we do? Well, we keep trying our best to love those around us and hopefully accept the love ourselves. After all, those are the commandments, love your G-d with all your heart, and all your soul, and all your might; and love your neighbours as yourselves. Or as my friend, who once stood by me despite all of my shortcomings and failures said, "It isn't your decision, we are not going away, we love you anyway." That is the power of free will, of grace, and love.

Remember, to be so loved can be overwhelming, like turning on the floodlights after wallowing in a dark room for so long. It will be in our nature to shy away from it. Still, we must try.

To love with such intensity is not easy either as we must be ever mindful that we do not impose any conditions to it, we must not expect anything in return. That can be extremely challenging.

We must be gentle with others and ourselves. It is a delicate dance, like watching a stilt fleeting back and fro with the edges of waves on the beach.

So, I urge each of us who are in the trenches, try to show love, unconditional positive regard, wherever you go. Trust that where human love falls short, His will be sufficient. Trust that we can be a medium of grace and an agent of love on this earth. That is our first and foremost lesson and duty as faithful stewards.

Sunday blues

The lull following good times can be exceptionally sobering. I used to dread them, I still do, but I have come to appreciate the contrast and its implication on just how fortunate I have been and how good of a time I have had. And then I give thanks as opposed to succumbing to the feeling of melancholy as reality crashes back.

It's hard, I am not going to lie, the realist in me is ever aware of just how fleeting good meaningful interactions can be. I try to stockpile as many of them as I can, but the sobering moments in between, they suck. They really do by contrast.  Kind of like sitting in the bleachers in the dark just moments after the lights go out following an exhilarating game. The abrupt silence, the absence of cacophony of sounds can be deafening. Yet, it is all worth it. Remember that.

So it is I hope that each of you who are feeling the Sunday blues, hang on. I hope it meant you have had a great time. Cherish the memories, the laughter, the camaraderie, and bear with the lull. We need the good, the bad, and the dull to grow.

Crepes

 I made crepes this morning. It has been many years since I have done so. The recipe is relatively simple, but the process not quite so; and for someone as out of practice as myself, the challenges felt exponential. When all has been said and done, I have managed to burn my fingers, put out a few little fires where the batter fell on to the stove; the counter covered in flour, and the sink overflowed with utensils. Still, the end product was pleasing. Sure, it won't be winning any awards soon and took repeated attempts to get it right, but it satisfied a craving, and how wonderful it was to have made something from scratch and share it.

Life is messy. And sometimes the little things that bring us joy entail no small amount of hardship and suffering. Things get broken, battered, beaten. You could even get burnt by your handle on things, and find yourself putting out fires here and there. There are probably easier ways with less hassle; but I tell you, if you stick with it, bear the heat, live in the moment, you will be rewarded. It doesn't have to be pretty, but I can tell you the simple things will still just be as sweet and savoury if not more so because you know you have earned it.

Life, it is messy, it is dirty, unpredictable and chaotic. Even if you follow the recipe. But if at the end of the day it means you get to share something nice, then it is worth it.

Trust your friends

 There are moments when I fear I am nothing more than a charlatan, donning a facade to play a charade. A once-promising individual whose prime is gone and now lacklustre; holding fast to fading dreams. A has-been wannabe relegated irrelevant living a pretense.

Harsh is the inner words whispered so softly, poisoning my soul and eroding my resolve.

Then, I look at my friends, the quality of their being, their calibre, their character, and I think to myself, surely they can't all be so misguided to esteem me their friendship. So maybe I am not perfect, but perhaps there is hope for me yet. Maybe I am still worth it. And so I strive. I strive to make myself deserving of the love and patience bestowed upon me. I hope I am doing ok.

I don't think I am always successful, but at least now I know when I am bowed low it is not because of my low self-esteem, but because I am humbled and honoured to have friends such as each of you who believe in me when I would have otherwise lost faith in myself.

So for anyone else who has felt as I do. Who trips and falls, who fears being a disappointment often, may you find comfort in the safe haven of friends and family just as I have through mine. Trust in their judgement when yours is clouded. May our outward angels shout down the inner demons.

Pay it back, pay it forward.

Hong Konger

The news from home over the past few weeks have become increasingly dire. Never in my imagination would I have thought that the streets that I am intimately familiar with would become backdrops to rallies upon rallies, and police brutality. My heart feels the despair and the frustration of being a witness to it all. 

I know why the youth of Hong Kong go out day after day to rally; they have little choice for it is their future for which they are fighting. When the normal avenues of appeal are not honoured, then the only act that remains is the act of defiance. So they go, in the face of tear gas, pepper spray, and rubber bullets. They go despite the very real risk of being arrested, convicted of rioting and subsequently jailed for years, or worst being preyed upon by the police and pro-Beijing factions in the most violent manner. 

On the other end, we see the escalating retaliatory measures taken by the police. Who are perhaps themselves backed into a corner, forced to dehumanize the citizenry in front of them as there is no chain of command to lead them otherwise since those in government remain uncharacteristically silent. But that is perhaps in the playbook. I can see how the police are being pitted against the insurgency with little guidance but to resort to violent retaliation, unsavoury tactics to "maintain the peace". 

Unwittingly, both sides are being pitted against one another, pawns upon a much bigger chessboard in which ultimately the objective is for the mainland to be justified when they eventually take down Hong Kong in one fell swoop; all in the name of restoring law and order. So much for one country two systems, an experiment that simply did not work. 

So I watch, from afar, increasingly agitated, gradually disillusioned as the once Pearl of the Orient is tarnished beyond resemblance. I write this knowing full well that I may not be able to return, but then again I have lived a life of an exile for far longer than I would like to admit. So I will not remain silent. #antiELAB #HongKongers

White

Here is the thing America, you claim yourself to be the nation of Red, White, and Blue. Central to all of that is the colour White, and do you know what white really means? White reflects light and constitutes the presence of all colours. You may think it means white power, white privilege, but the truth is you shine best when you embrace all colours, all nationalities, all ethnicities, all identities. 

This nation is the nation of the Statue of Liberty whose raised beacon has guided all who yearn for hope, freedom, and equality through the years to its shore. This nation that boasts the stars, something that sailors have used for millennia to chart their way to far off places and return home. This nation of stripes that encompasses all walks of life. You cannot proudly fly that flag of yours and not realize what it truly stands for. 

So don't shout down the voices of others, don't let your right infringe upon the rights of others. Instead, be open, be welcoming, be land of the free, for the free. Be home of the brave, to those who have braved obstacles to reach here, to those are brave enough to face the changes that the worlds have to offer and seek newer horizons. That is the greatness of America that I have come to know. That is the America that embraces the world.

Edge

Sometime ago during graduate school a part of me died, or maybe it is on life support.  I dont know.  I was at my peak; I have found something I was actually really good at, and for the first time in my life I didn't feel stupid. It was wonderful,  and then abruptly and abrasively that joy was wrenched from me by toxic personalities and wretched circumstances.  I'd like to say I carried through with dignity, I held my head up high.  But the truth is I feel damaged, never quite whole because a better side of me was sacrificed to survive.

I'd like to say I have made a full recovery. I'd like to say I am a well adjusted individual, and that I have made it a mission to prevent what happened to me from happening others. On the surface it looks good, I am in a good place, great colleagues, nice paycheck. teaching again etc. But the truth is there are still those dark moments, when that inner voice turns ugly.  There is a part of me that I have to keep in check constantly so no one can get near and be hurt, because it is dark and scary whatever it is that lurks in the labyrinthine I have built from defensive mechanism upon defensive mechanism. Gallow humour, bad puns, excuses, deflections, projections, and transference, I have used them all. I went through the medical student syndrome equivalent while reading through DSM- V.

Why am I writing all of this? I am not sure, maybe just to get it off my chest. Perhaps you will see me differently.  I know if I put all of my friends in a room together, a casual observer can almost mark the timeline in which happy-go-lucky and sweet Andy became goofy, guarded and flaky Andy.  I still smile and laugh a lot, but as my mentor who knew me from before graduate school has observed, that laughter has a harsher edge to it, and maybe it will always be so.

We are better than this

I witness a world inching ever closer to chaos. I watched as emotions gradually boiled over. The dissonance ever threatening, on the brink of breaking point, until like dry twigs in the fall, we snap. 

We can choose to bury our heads into the sand or dig our heels in. We can draw lines, build walls, or make cages. But in the end, wouldn't it be better if we can just meet somewhere in the middle, break bread, share a drink, and swap stories? 

After all, if we really think about it, there is more that connects than that which divides. Too often we get caught up in the semantics and the cosmetics. We fail to look deeper, to see the hurt and fear that we wrought upon one another.

At the end of the day, I believe we each hold the balm to heal one another's wounds and the salve to soothe each other's souls. 

All it takes is a little bit of empathy to imagine beyond the immediate problem and see the solution. All it takes is a little courage to validate one another. 

At the end of the day, we must look to our own humanity and see it reflected in the eyes of those across from us. At the end of the day, we must rise above our fight or flight responses and make full use of the faculties given to us and say, "We are better than this!"

Diaspora

I the diaspora, the vagabond, the wayfarer.

I the traveller, a nomad, a wanderer. 

I who blend in and yet never belong.

I who talk like a native but remain a foreigner.

I who have called many places my home.

 

I who have brothers and sisters though born an only child.

I who have traversed crossroads upon crossroads

 And navigated the dichotomies both external and internal

I who have crossed thresholds, broken bread, sat by hearths,  sang songs, danced dances, and heard stories.

I remain restless, for my story has no root.

I remain a drifter, dispersed into the world, riding the wind.

So I cherish any moment that is real, raw, and concrete; 

knowing just how ephemeral, ethereal, and fragile it all can be.

So walk with me, come sit by me, and just for a moment be my anchor so that I may know what it is like to feel grounded.

Earn This - Memorial Day

"Earn this." These were the dying words uttered by Captain John Miller, the character played by Tom Hanks, in his final moments in the movie Saving Private Ryan. He was speaking to Matt Damn's character, Private James Ryan. For those of you who have yet to see this film, spoiler alert, the whole film is about making sure one Private Ryan gets to return home after his brothers were all killed in action during WWII. It came at a grave cost- that of almost every man assigned to search and retrieve him. Men who were already bone-weary from having survived the trauma and chaos that is D-Day. Men who wanted nothing more than to go home, but called back in because one life is worth the calculated risk of losing several more. Still, they went, in part out of a sense of duty, and in part in search of their own salvation. So it was a poignant scene when Captain Miller, who knew he at last secured safe passage for this young private through the sacrifices made, to impress upon Private Ryan to make sure he earned it moving forward. 

This memorial day, as we salute the fallen, as we remember their ultimate sacrifices made, I would like to impress upon us to remember likewise. In the midst of all the BBQs, the fireworks, the beach trips, and weekend sales take a moment and ask ourselves, "Have we earned this?" And while we are at it, ask ourselves one more question, "how many more will we send down that path?" 

It is easy to glorify war, it is easy to dignify the deaths of young men and women sent on a noble quest. The politicians can wax eloquence on freedoms threatened and people in need of liberation. Yet death upon the front is rarely dignified because no matter how you cut it, it is life upon life in their prime cut short. It is life upon life nurtured in love, joy, and hope abruptly terminated by anger, fear, and hate. No amount of poetry and eulogies, however elegant, can comfort the grief now experienced by their loved ones or fill the voids in the communities they have left behind. It is bloodstain that can never be washed. 

So, on this Memorial Day weekend, as we honoured the lives lost, take a moment, visit a military cemetery or a memorial, and try to answer truthfully, have we earn this. 

"When You Go Home,
Tell Them Of Us And Say, 
For Their Tomorrow, 
We gave Our Today"
~ John Maxwell Edmonds

The Darkness of Easter

As I ponder Christianity, one of the things that struck me is how friendly it has become and dark it actually is.

This week, this week is a time of great darkness. At this point in the life of Jesus we witnessed some of the worst suffering a person can endured. Exhaustion, betrayal, physical pain and emotional turmoil, until finally a death in a most excruciating fashion. There is this forboding sense of loss; the despair, the anguish that are amplified in the hollow silence that lingers.

There is an urge to fast forward through all of this. To jump to that joyous occasion when we know He has triumphed over death, transforming a period into a semicolon. There is this rush to hide the eggs, bring out the chocolate, and be hugged by a giant fluffy bunny.

Yet, I pray you, resist that urge.  Slow down, and  suffer.  Let the rawness of the Passion sink in. Suffer, because without pain, without all that is dark and ugly and depressing, the utter humanity of Christ, the fullness of the human experience is denied.  Unlike Philadelphia, It is not always sunny in Christianity. But it is ok. It is ok to endure the despair, to suffer the silence, to abide in the void.

We may ask "why bad things happen to good people, " and jump ahead to how others have it so good. But take a moment and let it sink in that there was this one guy, really good guy all around, but boy, did he have it bad.  Then, take that moment even a bit further and think of those who suffer. It could be you, it could be someone close to you, it could get an acquaintance. It doesn't change the fact that the most common thing we all experience is grief.  Grief will visit with us, let it in.

Take a moment, do not in your urge to rush to celebrate, neglect those who find the darkness of this week almost too relatable.  For theirs is the hour of greatest vulnerability just as Christ suffers through his.  (I think the irony did not escape Christ that he of the chosen people spared long ago is now Chosen to die so that all other can be spared. That passover did not in fact passover Him.) So, let us suffer with and suffer through.

"Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and all for your love's sake. Amen.:

Give Me Jesus

A long time ago my priest said to me, "Read the Psalms, there you will find poems of great lament that eventually ends with hope, joy, and redemption. Read the Psalms wherever you are in your life, and may you find the comfort you need to be better." I think that is what attracted me most to spiritual songs such as this one, Give Me Jesus, or my other favourite Let Us Break Bread Together. For out of much pain and suffering, in the midst of isolation and desolation these songs were written and sung, and they never fail to express the sentiment that despite it all there remains the ability to praise and to believe. 

Faith did not come easily to me, I wrestle with it, I struggle. Perhaps the most frustrating aspect of my journey is that my ability to self sabotage remains ever so great; my own will constantly leading me astray. I know the laws and the commandments, I have felt the grace of G-d and still I fall, daily and repeatedly. I refuse the love, and close myself to life. I relapse, again and again, tripping over myself, getting in my own way in my little mind, trapped in its labyrinth, thinking to myself I enjoy this darkness and solitude for I am not worthy to be known, to be better. Silly, I know, but there it is. 

I become enslaved by my own "free" will, fettered by my shortcomings, and shackled to feelings of inadequacies; a prisoner of iniquities and vulnerabilities. Then I listen to these spirituals, and for a moment I am uplifted, carried over to the next moment and the next until I feel somewhat wholesome again to face the world.

https://youtu.be/UATdVbSvZhM

https://youtu.be/51nRgu38S-8

Leadership

If ever I write a book on leadership, this will be the title, "From Me to We in 180 degrees. Weeeeee!" It would have a cartoon of a conductor spinning happily in front of an orchestra.

I have learned through the years there are different types of leaders; some who marches ahead, some who directs from the back, and some who seats in the middle. For me, I think I aspire to the leadership style of an orchestra conductor. I want to face my team, my back towards the audience. I know the score through and through, I know how it all comes together, and I know without the orchestra in front of me, none of it matters. So, I will work hard to communicate with them, constantly, encouragingly. I will strive to guide each part with enthusiasm, to bring them together in harmony without drowning out one another. And at the end, I will acknowledge each and every one of them, highlighting their part and making sure the audience acknowledge their contribution and talents. 

When I think about it, wouldn't it be nice to make music together. That, and carrying a wand waving it around like a maniac.

Darkness is not all that dark if you choose to see the stars

Evil has always existed, and darkness always has a way to appear to have the upper hand. We can choose to feel despair in the face of it, or we forge ahead like many before us. For here is what I have come to understand through the years, for evil to win all it needs is to paralyze the masses, to render them helpless and silent, and to make them believe this is the norm. 

Insofar as there is at least one amongst us who decries that this is not the norm, who chooses to love, to spread hope, then evil is kept at bay.

You see, darkness will remain darkness, but all it takes is a candle to lit a room. All it takes are stars light years apart and away working together to guide a wayfarer home on a moonless night. 

So you seek, darkness may feel all-encompassing, but look hard enough within yourself and in others, and you will find that common and yet divine spark. Evil's victory is simply in submission; good's triumph is a constant practice in defiance, in resistance, and in persistence.