We often gather in circles.
Circles of friendship, community, ritual.
And almost always, at the center of that circle, there’s a fire.
We sit around it, shoulder to shoulder, facing inward.
The fire warms us, gives us something to look at, something to do.
It flickers stories and laughter into the night.
In its light, we feel connected.
In its glow, we are seen.
But no one ever looks away from the flame.
No one turns their back to face what lies behind them,
the forest, the vastness, the silence.
Because behind us is the dark.
And we are taught not to face it.
What Lives Beyond the Glow?
We grow up believing that darkness is dangerous.
That silence is empty.
That not knowing means we are lost.
And so we cling to the fire:
the light of performance, productivity, and certainty.
We define ourselves by what others can see.
We build identities out of clarity, movement, answers.
But the truth is:
Everything meaningful in life begins where the light ends.
The womb is dark.
The earth is dark.
Healing happens in dark nights.
Growth happens beneath the surface.
Transformation begins in quiet places where nothing is yet defined.
Turning from the Flame
There comes a time, if you are paying attention, when the fire no longer comforts you.
You begin to sense something is missing.
The laughter feels a bit rehearsed.
The stories feel circular.
The glow, once mesmerizing, now feels limiting.
And something in you begins to shift.
You feel called to turn, not in rebellion, but in recognition.
Called to face what everyone else is avoiding:
The quiet.
The stillness.
The self you’ve never fully met.
Not the one who performs in the light,
but the one who whispers in the dark.
The Descent Is Not the End
When you step beyond the fire, you will feel disoriented.
You’ll want to go back.
But stay.
Because what you’ll find in the dark is not absence, its presence.
What you’ll find is the part of you that doesn’t need applause to exist.
That doesn’t need a plan to be whole.
That doesn’t need to be understood to be valid.
You’ll find the emotions you buried.
The questions you never asked.
The pieces of yourself you abandoned to survive.
And the longer you stay, the more you’ll realize:
This is not exile.
This is homecoming.
Letting Go of What Was Never Yours
In the dark, there is no one to impress.
No script to follow.
No version of you to maintain.
And so you begin to let go.
Not of life, but of illusion.
Not of identity, but of pretense.
Not of dreams, but of distortion.
You stop striving.
You start breathing.
You stop chasing light.
You begin carrying it.
Because you realize the fire you were sitting around wasn’t the source,
it was a symbol.
The real flame lives inside.
The Quiet Emergence
Eventually, you return.
You sit at the fire again.
You hear the stories again.
You look into the light again.
But something is different.
You don’t need it to define you.
You don’t need it to reflect you.
You are no longer afraid of what lives beyond it, because you’ve been there.
You carry the dark now.
Not as a burden, but as a wisdom.
Not as a weight, but as a witness to your becoming.
And from that place, you no longer fear the silence.
You trust it.
You no longer avoid the unknown.
You move with it.
You no longer seek clarity to feel whole.
You are whole.
The Invitation
So here’s what I’ve learned, and what I now offer you:
There is a moment when you’ll feel called to look away from the fire.
Honor it.
Turn.
Step into what others are not facing.
Let it undo you.
Let it reveal you.
And then return,
not to join the circle,
but to light it differently.
Because once you’ve seen the other side of the fire,
you’ll never be content with just its warmth.
You’ll want what is true.
And truth, I’ve found,
has always lived in the places we were told not to look.
About the Author
Roshan Jayasinghe is a humanist thinker and emerging writer based in California. With a background in administration and a deep passion for social equity, he explores the intersections of politics, identity, and compassion through a lens grounded in nature’s own self-correcting wisdom.
Roshan Jayasinghe
Rooted in the belief that humanity can realign with the natural order where balance, regeneration, and interdependence are inherent. Roshan’s reflections invite readers to pause, question, and reimagine the systems we live within. His writing seeks not to impose answers, but to spark thought and awaken a deeper awareness of our shared human journey. Roshan will be sharing weekly articles that gently challenge, inspire, and reconnect us to what matters most.
