The Cabin, the Candle, and...Crap!

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. “Abandoned”, is an interesting and apt word here. Originally, from the 14th Century French word, “Abandonner”, it meant things like: “surrender, yield, or relinquish control utterly”. So here, with this image in mind, it may well be a good thing to remember- words and images have power.

Oh, did I mention you should definitely Not visualise the image of the cabin and the candle? Probably should have led with that. Oh well. Let’s just say that messing with people in order to make them the best little people they can be, is in my nature.

Anyway, back to the candle and the cabin. Actually, look, the reason I said not to see or feel this cabin in your mind, is that you are now, as so many of you have been before, trapped. There is only one way out- and that is through. For I lit the candle. And I know what you must now do.

I have been called many things over the millennia, as I helped you all to grow and evolve, through this very process. Back when I lit a small fire outside my hut, I was known as Trickster. When I used my cauldron over an open flame, I was known as Baba Yaga. But my very favourite title given is The Bringer of Light- Lucifer. Hence, the candle.

So, you’ve got this cabin with a candle in the window in your mind, which I warned you not to do (ok, ok, so bit late, I know, but- Trickster). Doesn’t really matter what yours looks like but know that the walls of the cabin are made of human flesh and bone, and the candle from human fat. Ok, that was a joke, sorry, couldn’t help it. You should see the look on your True Face.

For all of humankind has a True Face and it is a scared one. Fear is the great force for you humans, it is what pushes you to invent, to procreate, and yes, even to love. And I try my best, I really do, to force you through to what lies beyond that fear, which hopefully you’ll find after we finish here (and if you are still reading, spare a thought for those who stopped after the first paragraph- tee hee!).

Right, let’s say the candle is like a lighthouse, warning you away. Once you have seen its light, you know there is danger there, but as you walk towards the cabin- oops, don’t do that, sorry, did it again, only way out is through and all that- you feel what many a doomed sailor has felt. The tide has you. The cabin draws you. What is in the cabin is something you must now know.

Let me open the door for you. You can’t see me, of course, so it will seem as if the door opens itself- spooky effect hey? I love my calling. What comes through the door is a faint light, being eaten by the darkness. But it is not the darkness that should worry you. It’s that damn candle (sorry, I burnt myself trying to light the damn thing, been a while since anyone was here).

Just a quick word about you humans and your bigotry. You may notice I digress a bit, here and there, but hey, what’s to stop me? In many cultures and especially today’s, the Light is seen as “good” and the Dark, “evil”. Ever wonder why that may be? Unlike the yin-yang, in which all good contains its opposite and vice versa, the majority view is, well, in a word: racist. White skin equals good, anything else equals darkness, equals bad.

In reality, both can be terrifying. Ever tried staring at, or been surrounded by pure, burning, white light? That stuff hurts. Ask the burning Witch whether the Light is always Good. Ever tried having a life-saving operation without the peaceful darkness of anaesthetic? You get the picture.

So, hungry darkness, dim, creepy light, coming through the door. You need to step forward. Don’t do it yet th…you did it already, didn’t you? STOP. No more steps. See that bit in front of your foot where the floorboards end and the drop into The Pit begins? Maybe not so much with the walking forward right now, yeah?

If you have a look around, you’ll see that the whole of the room is basically the entrance to the pit, with a little bit of the floorboards still connected to the walls. You can walk along these bits (they’ll take your weight, don’t worry). So, hug the wall and slide towards the candle. See, I can be helpful! When you get to the window with the candle just stop and take a breather. Try not to look into the pit as you go. Sorry, you did, didn’t you, you saw the Deep Black, forgive me again, bit forgetful, its hard talking you humans through this and I’ve done it So many times. Anyway, doesn’t matter.

Taking a breather with the candle, right. I used to always blow it out but now…ooh, spooky, candle went out all by itself, leaving a wisp of smoke (you can’t see me, remember, I blew it out- another cool effect though hey?). I really can’t help myself, but I can help you. I’ve helped so many.

Where you now stand (and please, don’t move just yet) is where all true creativity begins. Keats was so scared that he wrote what he thought would be his last words standing where you are now. I used to have a beautiful quill pen and some excellent paper by the candle, before Poe stole them. Mary Shelly got really angry with me because she was so scared, until I explained things (she stayed angry though and called me a Monster, with a quizzical look in her eye).

Now that we’re in this beautiful darkness, you may be able to hear those sounds- they are the ghosts- not of people- they don’t exist- of ideas whose time has yet to come. The smells of all of the undiscovered perfume and the rot of this place- fecund, ready to fertilise. And when what happens to you next, happens, some of these ideas may come for you, I mean to you, sorry, with you. But these are all merely possibilities, until you make them your own, it may hurt a bit, but don’t fret.

Hieronymus Bosch took a few too many with him, while the Zen Master Poet, Ryokan was happy with few. I can’t say what will be yours, it’s all up to you (I’m supposed to stick a riddle and rhyme into this whole spiel at some point- ticking off boxes, hey?). As to what comes next, let’s turn you away from the window. That’s it, turn around to face The Pit. Dark hey? But see that little pin prick of light way down there in the middle?

You are going to have to fall into the pit in front of you. This is what I warned you (ok, ok, so it was after the fact, but still) about. Coming into this cabin, even seeing it and the candle in your mind’s eye, brings you to the choice you must make. The place you now stand is sacred (funny how you can make the word “scared” out of that). Every human being that has ever lived has stood here, with me. For not everyone is a genius, but everyone has a genius- in the Latin sense of the word: “attendant spirit”. Yep, that’d be me.

Now, you can either fall into and through the pit in front of your feet or stay with me here forever. And while I’ve been told on occasion, that I am quite good company, everyone so far must have considered the idea of me rabbiting on at them for eternity, unbearable. Well, that would be the case, except I used to always push people in.

Some people would just jump immediately as they figured out what was going on. Marylin Monroe was a favourite jumper. She leaped as Norma Jeane Mortenson, red-hair, freckles and all and came out, after passing through the dark and the light, as, well, Marylin (who, having learnt the lesson of this place, did some really great stuff during the Civil Rights Movement. Like insisting that either Ella Fitzgerald (another jumper) must be allowed to sing, or she would leave the club.

I can still talk with you while you fall, as sound travels well down there but, if I find someone really interesting, I like to chat for a whi…oh, you seem to be falling. Sorry, old habits and all that. And, only joking, I find every human being fascinating.

Falling. Now, I don’t actually know what this part feels like but I’ve had it described to me in detail (mostly by journalists). Apparently, you should be feeling the things in the dark touching, infesting, or just infiltrating and becoming you. And the brightness beginning to grow below, closing. Like I said, I haven’t been where you are or where you’re going, so the results of the process have only been relayed to me by people (mostly journalists) who have told me what’s been going on in the world after others have passed through. A Blues musician, who shall remain nameless (after they carved their initials into the windowsill where that candle was- sorry, could’ve shown you many a “waz here” if I hadn’t blown it out), said that he thought the Blues had obviously come from this place- the way to deal with the depths of slavery was to sing.

And so, you fall through the Dark, gathering what you need to you, what wants you, that which you must bring forth into the world. And the darkness feels scary but somehow wholesome. The light, on the other hand, rapidly approaches. I have zero idea what it is like in there, or how to get through it with your mind and your gifts intact, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out. I hope so, from up here you’re looking very small indeed in front of the even smaller pin prick.

Oh, one last thing, we’ve been speaking about the names I've been given, but there is one I haven’t mentioned. It’s been around for a long time. The ancients used it and finally stuck it in their Tarot. Then, when the early, notably “white”, Christians stole it and changed me into the epitome of Darkness, so that you humans couldn’t go back to the Old Ways of Nature, I got a bit annoyed. The name comes from ye olde words: Dia- “Across”; Ballein- “to Throw”.

As you near the light, where I must bid you adieu, I’ll just say that, as I said, I have no idea what’s next for you. There may well be one of my Minions with a mop and bucket there, who keeps the spotless white tiles clean after you fall, snap, slap, scrunch into it, leaving your gross brain matter and blood and guts and teeth, and, well, you get the idea. Can’t say for sure.

Ah, that’s right: names. Something I probably should have done at the beginning of all of this:

Please allow me to introduce myself…