It made me think about the nature of duality.
On the one hand, and in a minor way, duality thinking all too easily steers us into concepts like right/wrong, good/bad, black/white. These are easy to grasp, and often feel like they're the only way to understand this complex world. They can also make sensing our connection with each other, and with the world, more difficult; and understanding the concept that we are all one almost impossible. (If I'm black and you're white, we are not one. We're different.)
On the other hand, the Yin Yang sign represents the duality/oneness connundrum in a very healthy way.
Its shape and colors embody the concepts in a tidy package. It tells us simply and directly that we need the light to understand and appreciate the darkness, and we need the darkness to understand and appreciate the light. Plus, like the black bit of yin in the white yang, the symbol tells us that there is no such thing as a "pure" feeling. There is always a hint of sadness in our joy, and a hint of joy in our sadness. An art teacher once told me that when shading a figure, the whitest white and the darkest dark meet at the apex of the curve, and the shadowy shaping flows from that. Incorporating the opposites gives dimension and depth to our feelings.
In addition, when we feel bad, we ask to feel better. That keeps us creative and alive. We need contrast to keep us moving, growing, changing, and evolving.
In truth, duality thinking helps us evolve spiritually.
When I finally reconciled myself to the usefullness of duality thinking, I turned the page over. On the other side was a veritable portrait of oneness.
This little child might have needed to learn his "opposites" words, but his loving heart was speaking the language of connection with fluency and grace.
Love,
Kristine
