Facing Light

29 Sep 2019

“I want to draw the devil!” the lanky boy replied as he studied my reaction. I had asked him if he would like to do art since he wasn’t in a mood to do English work.

He had been having one altercation after another since morning.

During English class a casual request from his fellow classmate to fill up his drinking bottle had easily spiralled downwards into a shouting match of vulgarities.

It’s difficult to imagine this doe-eyed individual capable of setting fire to public property. But then again there’s also an African saying that goes, “An unloved child will set fire to the whole village to feel its warmth.”

“Why don’t we give the devil a rest today and do some mandala colouring for a change?” I asked him calmly.

His defiance dropped a little. Perhaps he was puzzled by my suggestion.

I quickly produced Susanne Fincher’s book of mandala templates and a box of Derwent colouring pencils.

The sullen boy was mildly intrigued by the display of colours before him. But the residual anger from the storm that had broken held him back.

“Yes, you should try the mandala colouring! It took me damn long but it’s nice,” one of he boys who had an earlier confrontation with him quipped. This boy had completed two mandalas to date and was very proud of his ability to start & finish well.

The boy moved closer to my desk to have a better look at the mandalas completed by other students.

“Wow! This is nice! Who did this?” Hatred gave way to fascination as he ran his fingers over the beautiful circles.

It took him a while to choose his mandala template. When he finally did, he retreated to the corner of our study room and faced the wall to get started.

I desperately wanted him to face the large window to receive the healing light of the morning sun. His battered soul needed it.

But I knew that his brittle nerves would not tolerate being told where to sit. It was good as it was that he agreed not to draw the devil but colour a mandala instead.

So I watched him quietly from my desk.

Suddenly he stopped colouring and asked, “Miss Ong, how come these two colours on my mandala look the same even though I’m using different colour pencils?”

He was referring to chrome yellow and lemon yellow. He had used them side by side in his mandala.

I looked at what he had put on his mandala and said, “Your first colour is blue representing water. And your second colour is green representing earth. And you have used two kinds of yellow to represent the Sun. The Sun must be very important to you!” I said.

He beamed at my interpretation and like a primary school child, asked me to repeat every thing I just said.

The way he smiled and breathed as I repeated what his colours might mean looked like he was listening to some beautiful secret language that his soul understood.

I then went on to explain that the reason why he couldn’t tell the 2 yellows apart was because where he sat didn’t allow enough light to see clearly. Had he faced the window where the Sun was coming from he would have been able to differentiate the colours easily.

Without a word, he gathered all his materials and turned his chair towards the Sun.

And for the rest of the lesson there was peace as the boy concentrated on making his mandala beautiful. Whenever he looked up, there was the Sun smiling back at him.

So I wish for myself and all sentient beings the grace to look towards light for healing when disappointments in life make darkness feel good and inviting.