02
Jul
08

Ursula K. Le Guin

 A Wizard of Earthsea

The darkness, that unnamed thing, is in anyone, and it will take a form, a shape, according to anyone’s {karma?}, and it will change by the hour need. It is unnamed without one’s will, whether aware or not. Usually masked by feelings – anger, hate, fear, fear of many kinds, fear of death, of (being) abandoned or neglected, of overlooked, of being misunderstood and on and on. Many ways for one call, many names for the darkness to come. By awareness, one can see the darkness growing through the fear and feeling, through awareness and knowledge, one might see, and name, the form of darkness. With practice, this knowledge can become a wisdom, an understanding – the name of darkness is ever changing, but with no rise of feelings and fear, darkness can not form and can not harm.

 

Those who can not fight within go on fighting outside. Whatever the war will seem to be for, it will be mere illusion, as war is a try to master someone else’s fear and feeling, which are unknown to the opponent himself. It is an escape from dealing with one shadow within.

 

“Third time is the charm”       -        At first only the shadow is visible. At second it gets form, and at third one can know the darkness. Knowing means – comfort, immutability and acceptance, which is unshaken self, living in friendliness and trust with oneself. Not being proud at its humbleness, it loses the need to show of power. When powers are not exercised, the shadow has no room to play.

 

 

 

“To light a candle is to cast a shadow”

 

“That which gives us the power to work magic sets the limits of that power”

 

 

The Tombs of Atuan 

 

Though not as good as the first one, still a very good adventures book. Caught me from cover to cover with no stop.

 

“You have set us both free,” he said. “Alone, no one can win freedom”

 

“Freedom is a heavy load, a great and strange burden for the spirit to undertake. It is not easy. It is not a gift given but a choice made, and the choice may be hard one”.

 

 


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Out of the thousands who are known, or who want to be known as poets, maybe one or two are genuine and the rest are fakes, hanging around the sacred precincts trying to look like the real thing. Needless to say I am one of the fakes, and this is my story. (Leonard Cohen, The Book of Longing)
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