The healing light

The dusty box I pulled from the tight crawl space was filled with oddly shaped lightbulbs. Instead of round they were covered in multiple flat faces like a glass discoball. Each flat panel was edged in fine golden lines. There weren’t any clear ones and my options were limited to five green, two orange and one red. None of the colours fit with the vibe I had planned for the basement space of the quaint cottage I had worked my butt off to buy. This was my space, away from the cold world I was hiding from, and I was determined to have it all my way. But these were my only choices as the unusual light fitting would take no modern lightbulb I had tried. Until I could afford an electrician to rewire the room I was stuck with these archaic party lights.

Maybe I can get some pretty indoor plants in here, I reasoned as I chose a green bulb and climbed the ladder to fit it. Green for recovery, green for healing and growth beyond my addictions and failed relationships. This house was where I would finally become my best. I flicked the switch and the windowless room I had only seen by torchlight transformed before my eyes under the glow of the strange bulb.

Where before had only been bare wood panelling and exposed support beams now stood lush growth of vines, flowers and fruit. Every imaginable shade of green mingled in vivid life over each available surface where the light’s glow touched. The dark corners of the basement remained bleak and dusty. I was mesmerised by the movement of the little jungle for a long time before I realised I was holding my breath. Fumbling for the torch hanging off my tool belt I flicked the switch back off. Under the torch’s beam the basement was back to dull and devoid of life except perhaps the hidden mice and spiders. I flicked the switch back on and the room transformed once more into a vibrant tropical cave in the glow of the strange green light. Where my torchlight fell there was only plain wood and as I moved it around the greenery disappeared only to reappear as the green glow took back the space my torch had passed.

Maybe I had finally lost it, I thought. Perhaps the traumas I had overcome and the vast quantities of booze I had consumed had finally pickled my brain. Turning off the torch and tucking it into its loop I stepped forward to get a closer look at the garden greenery before me. There was movement to the vines, like a soft breeze rippled through the leaves. I tried to touch the growth before me and cursed as my hand hit the hard wall and my finger twisted the wrong way. My hand had passed straight through the plants that looked so real. As I sucked on my injured finger I wondered how I ended up with a ghost garden in my basement. Lost in thought, it took me a moment to realise there was a sleepy face between two leaves right where I was staring.

It was so small I almost missed it, the face the size of a pea. With its snoozy countenance I was reminded of a sloth, except this little creature had a dark green leathery face with a lighter green fluff of fur framing it. Its tiny fingers were long and twined around the stems with vine-like grip. I watched as it climbed towards a bulbous fruit hanging above and latched onto it, wrapping arms and legs tight before burying its face into the orange flesh. The small body swelled as the creature drank deeply of the fruit’s nectar. By the time it pulled its face free its body was as round in shape as the strange fruit it drank from. The creature let go of the fruit and dropped to a leaf below it, settling itself into a satisfied slumber.

I ventured further into the basement and to my amazement realised there were more of the creatures. They were everywhere on the lush vines, climbing or sleeping, some wrapped in warm embrace with partners or children. They moved slowly about, the only time they moved fast was after they had fed on fruit and dropped trustingly to the leaves below. It seemed the leaves moved to catch them as they dropped into a drunken sleep. What strange infestation had I found in my basement? If I couldn’t touch them did that mean they would cause no harm to my property? At this point I was convinced I had lost my grip on reality completely. I had been working too hard, given up too many vices. I switched the bewitched light off and headed to bed to clear my head with rest.

Progress on renovating my new house went slow over the next few days. Even my freelance work sat on the back burner as I spent my time in the basement watching the tiny green sloth folk. It calmed me to sit in the green glow and watch their simple lives play out before me. They were a peaceful folk, living only to feed, cuddle and care for the vines of my basement. My mind was soothed as I sat and watched them. Sometimes I sketched what I saw and other times I idly plucked at my guitar as I gazed at the sedate folk of the vines. My mind was a still pond as clear and calm as I had always hoped it could be. Of course, it couldn’t last.

I was nudged out of my meditative state by my phone ringing upstairs. My limbs were cramped and I stumbled too slowly to answer in time. The phone rang out and by the time I got to it several texts sounded. They were from my mother, always the bearer of negative vibes. “Hi, long time no see. Are you using again? I knew it would happen sooner or later you are nothing but a disappointment to your father and myself.” It’s amazing how simple words can feel like a gut punch. All my hard work on myself felt like nothing as I trudged back down to the basement. What does it matter anyway? Everything I had done I had done for me and me alone. Rationalising didn’t change how it made me feel. I didn’t realise how much I yearned for approval.

As my mood descended I noticed the light in the basement begin to change colour. Orange beams of light shot out one by one and where they hit the green growth it sizzled and withered. The tiny folk in the orange glow began to move faster and shoved each other aside to make it to the green parts. When they were back in the green light they didn’t slow down and began to tug on the ripe fruits until they fell and splattered on the ground. The slow folk could only watch in dismay as their life giving fruit was taken. The orange light was infectious and spread steadily over the beautiful scene until all was in ruins. Then the once peaceful folk turned on each other and began to fight. I couldn’t watch anymore. I turned off the light and fetched the box. I needed the peace of the green light back.

Replacing the now orange globe with a green one brought temporary relief to my anguish. The green vines and folk had returned as good as new. But I couldn’t calm the storm inside of me. One by one the green bulbs turned orange until all I was left with were orange and red bulbs. If orange light caused this much destruction what would a red light bring? I couldn’t face that so once the last bulb turned orange I turned off the light and left the house, bound for the closest liquor store.

The next few weeks were a blur of belligerent boozing and vicious hangovers. There was no point to sobriety anymore as my carefully held calm descended into chaos. On one particularly ill morning I looked in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw. All that work had come undone over one disparaging comment. If I was going to come out of this I had to face my demons. I was so much more than my flaws. I strapped on my tool belt and turned on the basement light.

The withered vines and ugly sloth goblins were still there. I set to work cleaning and renovating the basement space while tears streamed down my face. Every mistake I had made played out in my mind in cruel loops. The folk began to tear each other apart in desperate violence and slowly the light turned red. The vines were burning and I wept as the tranquil scene was destroyed before me. There was no comfort to be found in the scene around me anymore. Something snapped inside me and I could find no more tears. What good could come from hating my past self? I had come a long way from the hedonistic girl I had been. I could work hard again and find good inside me. I deserved to be someone I could like, even love.

I sat down on the floor and took a deep breath. I deserved happiness. The ghost flames and chaos of the room seemed to scream at me that I could only fail. I closed my eyes to find a quiet place inside of me to plan my next move. Step by step I could be better, I could do better. When I opened them I was shocked to find hints of green light emerging from the bulb. Where the new light hit, the flames went out and new growth bloomed rapidly. With a smile in my heart I knew that I would be ok. The sloth goblins and I would be just fine.