I spoke of this before, but it’s been on my mind a lot lately. It could be due to the too quickly passing of time. Finding out I had a brain tumor brought more than fear. In some ways, it was a gift. Waiting for surgery was easier than you might think. I was sure I’d wake but then, when I did, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I heard the doctors. They were concerned I hadn’t opened my eyes, or answered their questions. I was awake. I knew the answers. I just wasn’t ready to leave the hazy freedom of not having to answer them. I thought about living forever. Would I want to? How could I watch everyone I love grow old and die. What would I do with the power to decide who should live and who should die? Marcus, the main character in my Darkness and Light books was born with my eyes closed, ignoring the too bright lights of the recovery room and the questions of those standing beside the bed. I’d spent many years listening to others, working so hard to be what they expected. Marcus, like must of us, was trying not to be what he’d been told he was. His path, his choices, are far more difficult than mine, yet in many ways they are the same. When I opened my eyes, I became the person I’d always wanted to be. The person I was died that day. If you have the time to read Dark Night of the Soul, I hope you see the part of us all buried within the heart of a tortured soul. Remember, we can’t do this alone.