Allegory/Short Story – Lessons in Veritas

In Him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, And the darkness did not overcome it. ~John 1:4-5

In my village, there is a river. I often find myself sitting on its banks. On these banks, I reflect on the nature of life. By it, I like to sit and observe the people across its currents.

One particular day, I sat in the reeds of the tall grass surrounding the familiar flow of water and watched the lights illuminate the residences of the people on the other shore. I have travelled there a few times, and each time, I have attempted to bring some of that light back into my familiar world, only to watch it dwindle, seemingly due to the insufficiency of my apparent self-given nourishment. It never seems to be enough.

I sighed. I thought of the darkness on my side of the river and I wept. “What makes them so different that they have obtained this light that we don’t have,” I pondered. A thousand times I have come to this bank, only to reach the same disheartening conclusion. I live in a world of darkness – darkness that does not seem to go away, no matter what I do. And darkness that only seems to grow blacker every time I have left it to return.

With my heart heavy, I wiped away the tears from my eyes and I noticed my father sitting several feet away, also apparently reflecting on the nature of our existence. Despite the hours I had spent observing the nature of the illuminated village, I had only just become aware of his presence.

“Father, what do you think of this situation?” I asked, in despair. “How do you stand to live in this darkness when there is so much light on the other side of the bank?”

“Child,” he responded. “There is light on both sides of the river.”

“But…”

“And,” he said with noted anguish, “there is darkness. For as much light there is on either side, there is an equal battle between the dark realms. While you have grown adept in responding to the darkness of your own world, there is much to learn about the nature of what you see. Do not forget that I am here.”

As I returned to the river over the following months, I began to ask my father to explain more of what he meant. He pointed me to the book he had written for our family before I was born, which tells of the nature of life, and, as he imparted wisdom and understanding, left me to reflect on his words and decide what my conclusion may be.

Through my reflecting, I began to see my village and the people across the river differently. I realized the dichotomy between dark and light no longer existed on either side of its banks. Rather, I saw a gray mixture of groups and individuals with illuminated candles standing tall in the surrounding darkness in both my village and the other. While, I also noted, the qualities of the darkness are different on either side, each desperately depends on the light in a similar way.

I realized that my familiarity with my world and my decision to focus solely on the other side of the river had caused me to see past the light bearers amidst me and become entangled in the darkness between them. In my darkness and my ignorance, I strived to see the lights on the other side of the bank and claim them, thinking that they offered the solution to our darkness when they were necessary to illuminate the darkness in their own place.

With this new knowledge, I persisted in asking my father questions, to which he continually redirected me to his book. I wanted nothing more and nothing less than to figure out what my place in the world of darkness and light might be. I wanted to know the source of these lights, and I wanted to know where I should go with my own light, which I only just realized has been radiating from me.

Finally, I realized what I had always known but had forgotten for so long – my father has given each person their light. And, while each light shines differently depending on the type of darkness it must overcome, the light still exists in each village to illuminate a path to him, the source of pure light and the overcomer of all darkness.

In my village, there is a river. There is light and darkness on both of its banks. I have realized that my role as a daughter of the light-giver is to persist in being illuminated by him and illuminating others with his never-ending source, no matter where I am. I just want to share my father’s light with him and our family, no matter where that may be.

I no longer feel discontent on my side of its currents.

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In every corner of the world, there exists a certain quality of darkness. Whether that be poverty of mind, poverty of spirit, poverty of security, poverty of resources, or just a general lack of contentment, I pray God uses me and the people I serve with to be light bearers wherever we go – both in this stage of life and forever going forward.

Below is a journal I wrote after participating in a schizophrenia simulation experience as part of my mental health nursing class. We were required to listen to voices similar to those with schizophrenia would experience through earbuds as we completed various tasks.

By the time I had made it to the community support program simulation, I had had enough. As I listened to Professor L’s condescending words*, determination welled within me. “You can choose what career you are interesting in pursuing,” she said, as she handed out our simulated job applications. “There’s nursing…but that is a demanding job,” she continued, in a doubtful tone. “You guys should consider other important jobs, like janitorial work…”

“Janitorial work? Hah! We’ll see about that,” I said to myself as I indignantly indicated that I would be pursuing the job of brain surgeon on my application sheet. Simultaneously, the voices in my head repeatedly reminded me about the supposed fact that I could do nothing but mess things up, and that I was a dumb-a**. Their deprecating words, albeit distracting, gave me all the more reason to fight them as hard as I could. I tried to perform all the assigned activities to a greater degree than I would even be able to do without the internal menaces. I would have nothing to do with bowing down to the verbal mistreatment from those who viewed my status as discriminatory. I would beat the challenge of simulated schizophrenia. Just like I learned to beat my own real-life battle of anxiety and depression.

Perhaps my past experiences occluded my perception of what I was supposed to be experiencing during this simulation. All I know is that when I shared my feelings related to the activity in class, Dr. R seemed surprised. And she reminded me that, although for me it might be a natural reaction to fight against the voices with sheer determination, most people suffering from auditory hallucinations in real life are not able to easily distinguish them from reality. People who are diagnosed with schizophrenia often do not have the mental capability or reserve to fight their symptoms, she noted. I paused for a moment, and I reflected on the gist of what Dr. R had just made clear to me — the inability to separate truth from a lie is powerful. Perhaps this simulation helped me to realize that how I process information is not necessarily how each one of my patients will be able to process what is happening to them.

And yet, one transferable emotion I know I experienced in this simulation was the feeling that arose within me as I faced each professor whose role seemed to be to make fun of me and my peers for our disadvantages. I felt degraded, despite the knowledge that none of them really meant what they were saying. I’ve always believed that each person on this planet is valuable and should never be looked down upon because of their abilities or lack thereof. And yet, being a high achiever, I know that I tend to innately make these judgments when I come across people who seem “mentally slow” or “delusional.” In this regard, this activity saddened me. It forced me to think of the judgments I have made in the past and it made me realize how those people would have felt if they knew what I was thinking in my mind. I pray that, as I progress through nursing school, I would truly act out my knowledge that all people are equal in value, and that these lessons will help me truly love on every patient I interact with in clinical and in my future profession.

Nobody deserves to be or wants to be disrespected. And so, I have made the conclusion that I should approach patients who hear voices with the same respect I wished I was shown during this simulation experience. I believe that true healing and recovery is best facilitated in an environment that assures the humanity of the client. As a nurse, I can and I hope I will be aware of the struggles this population deals with. I hope I remember the confusion they must be experiencing as they attempt to separate falsehood from reality. I hope I remember my desire to fight this battle, and my realization that these patients may not be able to fight their battles on their own. But through this all, I hope that I partner with my clients by meeting them where they are at and showing them respect. Because nobody should ever be made to feel worthless, regardless of their struggles. We were all created in God’s image, even when our reflection of that image has become distorted due to the nature of our fallen world.

To recognize one’s own self-worth and yet equally recognize their imperfections is a difficult task. And yet, I believe it is a crucial one for every nurse to learn, especially those who work with those who are mentally ill. We must value ourselves enough so that we can truly “love others as we love ourselves.” But we must not buy into the illusion that just because we, as nurses, may be physically or mentally healthy at a given time, we are better than any of our patients. Because, we are all imperfect.

Perhaps that is what makes all of us truly beautiful.

*none of my nursing professors are condescending at all! They are wonderful. Their attitude I described here was only for role play.

Category: Allegory/Short Story

“Across the River”

Beautiful Imperfections