“The real meaning of enlightenment is to gaze with undimmed eyes on all darkness.”

– Nikos Kazantakis

Oh, that’s profound. I think it’s a crock of crapadoo brought to a low boil, but it’s profound. Enlightenment is a process, not a product; a journey without end, not a state of attainable ability.

The student asks the master, “What is the way to enlightenment?”
The master answers, “Humility.”
“And how long is the way, Master?”
“How would I know?”

Moreover (strange word), between darkness and light there can be no agreement. Light makes darkness less so; darkness is changed by the presence of light. So Uncle Kyle says the meaning of enlightenment is to turn one’s back to the darkness, bow one’s head, and humbly pray to see the light … to be shown the next step on the way.

So we have established that the author of Zorba the Greek and The Last Temptation of Christ is full of hooey, while the author of Finding Oakland is not. That’s convenient for me. Hence, to dispel the shadows.

First, I’ve never cared much for phrases like, “the meaning of enlightenment.” It makes no sense; it’s a non sequitur. So is “the meaning of life.” How can one impart meaning to an abstraction? The only possible answer is, “it depends.” And it depends on an infinite number of things, because it depends on how a life is lived. So I think Nikos meant the function of enlightenment, or the purpose, or the goal. Not the meaning.

How then does the artist spelunk into the sunless caverns in search of the gradient distinctions of shade? By taking a little light along, of course. Most of us, when the day is done – hopefully with pages that weren’t there in the morning – have someone to love. Some memory of loving, loosing, living on. Or someone who loves us, or who has, or who will. Inshallah. That should be light enough.