the light

Have you ever played hide-and-seek with a young child? When they hide, they curl up to make their bodies as small as possible. They cover their little faces, and squeeze their eyes closed. It's incredibly cute and usually pretty ineffective.

As an adult, the eye-closing is what's funniest to watch. Clearly, it doesn't occur to the hiders that shielding seekers from their own view does not equal the prevention of seekers seeing them--that closing one's eyes has no effect on one's overall hide-ability. And yet, I totally get it.

Because there is something that looks and feels like safety, deep inside the darkness of tightly-clenched eyes. You may not be able to see anything, but you are in control of your immediate reality--even if it's not actually real. If you stay absolutely still and resist peeking, there's a chance that no one will find you--that you won't lose the game.

Open your eyes, and you're at the mercy of the world. You have to tell the truth, confess your errors and live in blinding light. You have to answer to others. Others, with their own respective sets of feelings, thoughts and actions, none of which you have any control over. You get found, and your safe, if empty, darkness vanishes.

Becoming a grown-up, I'm finding, is learning how to be found. It's trying to find yourself. 

It's opening up your eyes and learning to navigate the light.