Light is light. And only light can bring our fragmented darkness into proper perspective and allow us to see things whole.

I was at a class reunion with several former classmates when one of them, a professor of philosophy, asked an unusual question: “What fears have you conquered over the years and what new ones have you acquired?” Not eager to make our private fears public, each of us waited for someone else to open up the discourse. One person finally listed some familiar fears, including “mice,” “being left out or abandoned” and “the dark.”

In the United States, it is rare to hear someone define herself as belonging to someone else. Here, we belong to ourselves.

When two or more are gathered, factions lurk.