Keeping the Light

Staying in the light takes effort. Some time ago, a powerful awareness surfaced during a session with a client. She, like so many others, felt personally responsible for her negative thoughts, believing they could somehow shape her destiny and become reality. Yet, she didn't extend the same belief to her positive thoughts.

This double standard struck a chord within me. I remembered a similar feeling from my past: worrying that my fears would materialize, but not believing my hopes would. Why do we so easily fall for this?

I found my answer: sliding into the darkness is easy. It may be unpleasant, but it requires no effort. The light, however, demands conscious effort and responsibility. If I believe my attitude can influence my life, then I have work to do. Little by little, I began to get my life on track. Keeping faith and enthusiasm has always required strength; losing hope and giving up has always felt excruciatingly easy.

This is why all the great teachers who preach the light—Christ, Buddha, Mother Teresa, Nelson Mandela, John Lennon—have impressed humanity so profoundly. Their strength lies in their ability to resist the darkness and keep finding the light, even in the most difficult moments. Staying in the light is not easy.

In many areas of our lives, we accept that constant practice leads to growth. We understand this with sports, education, learning a language, or playing a musical instrument. Yet, when it comes to our own character, we often view self-improvement not as a sculpting of ourselves, but as a loss of our true self. The truth is, our character is the result of continuous, often unconscious, exercise.

By the age of twenty-five, we are often more a product of our environment than of our own conscious choices. To truly build ourselves, we must first understand our material—our soul, our history—and then become co-creators of our own lives. We are never truly alone in this process; the world around us continues to influence us. But when we become aware, we can guide the creator's hand in a way. In gestalt language – we can interact consciously with the field and others.

We are always creating, whether we're aware of it or not. The process is a constant interaction between who we are and who we choose to become. This is exactly where gestalt therapy could help a lot through rising our awareness and support our creative process with experiments. The change and development of a personality is a slow, quiet alchemy. Imagine a clear glass of water into which you drop grains of sand, one by one. At first, they seem to vanish, their presence a mere whisper in the clarity. But gradually, a sediment begins to form, a tangible landscape building from countless tiny moments, eventually becoming a material that is visible and real.

In the vast architecture of our soul, there are countless rooms waiting to be illuminated. Each holds a story, a forgotten truth, or the promise of a new quality. Some rooms hold the lingering echo of a long-gone era, yet also contain timeless wisdom. Others are waiting to be tidied or furnished with new perspectives. There are those that guard secrets and buried treasures. Some are easy to enter, their doors ajar, while others are sealed with ancient locks, heavy bars, and padlocks. Occasionally, we find a belligerent guard standing sentinel before a room, challenging our right to enter. The path to some rooms is short, but others lie over nine mountains and beyond, a journey fraught with challenges and traps. Yet, every journey is meaningful; every step is deliberate.

The obstacles we encounter are not enemies to be defeated, but rather sacred parts of our inner architecture, vital landmarks on the geographical map of our own world. In psychology, we call these barriers defense mechanisms. Often, their presence is both meaningful and constructive, a fortress built to protect us. Problems arise when these defenses, instead of safeguarding us, begin to constrict our lives, halting our growth and creating a conflict between our deepest needs and our ability to meet them. "If I want to see butterflies, I'll have to endure two or three caterpillars," says the rose from The Little Prince, understanding that every beautiful thing has a complex beginning.

Inner struggles and anxiety are born in the space between our yearning for butterflies and our paralyzing fear of the caterpillars. This is where psychotherapy steps in, offering a helping hand to face that fear and to find the inner strength to overcome it. In such a moment, we light a torch and venture into a hidden room, seeking the very caterpillar we have avoided. When we find it, we don't try to destroy it; we try to "tame" it, learning to understand its purpose and transforming its power into a force for our own liberation.

So glad the sun is here this morning!