Darkest Before The Dawn

A couple years ago, I wrote a post with this same title, but today, I’m thinking about the topic a little differently.

Having read The Ale Boy’s Feast this week, a novel set in a dark, dark world, and anticipating next month’s supernatural suspense, Darkness Follows by Mike Dellosso, I couldn’t help but think a little about the subject.

What I’m wondering is whether or not most people consider their circumstances dark. I’m guessing, many do not. I suspect there are a great many who think that their ship might still come in. They might win the lottery, meet Mr. Right, get that long-hoped-for promotion, buy the right stock at just the right time, retire in perfect health with enough cash to attack that bucket list. And until then, there’s always the weekend.

Monday? Not so great. But the week gets moving and the weekend crawls closer, and things start looking up because it will be Par-tay time!

A dark world? Just ignore the irritating stuff. Complain about it if you have to, maybe write an angry letter to your congressman, call a talk show, or flip off the guy who cut in front of you on the freeway. But no worries, Man, Tomorrow the traffic won’t be so bad, the Next Thing will make me forget what I was complaining about on the radio, and in a few months we’ll vote the bums out of office, or try to.

And when things seem to crowd in, like a bad marriage or rebellious kids or the company going out of business or rising gas prices, just turn up the TV a little louder and pour another drink or pop another pill or smoke (and inhale) something numbing.

Darkness? What’s dark about living to get laid, or jolted by the rush of adrenaline at the race track or ball park? What’s dark about playing Wii with the kids or doing the soccer mom thing? What’s dark about barbecues in the backyard or planning vacations to Yellowstone?

Why would anyone think this world is dark?

The secret stuff, maybe—the heartbreaks or dangerous desires, the out-of-control fears or unrelenting desperation—but those are buried out of sight, and hey, everyone knows, out of sight, out of mind. So no, life is most definitely not dark.

Maybe there are dark spots, patches, like black ice, we need to navigate around or over, but the sun is shining around the next bend and the road will be dry up ahead. I just won’t think about where this road is taking me. I’m having too good a time driving in comfort and ease, with the radio cranked up so I don’t hear the horns honking or the sirens screaming or the tires squealing.

Dark? Not the world most people know, I’m guessing.

So who, then, is looking for the dawn?