Chapter 1 from Gopal’s (Bahram Moteraassed Spitama) new book, From Darkness Into Light: Why Stay in the Shadow When We Are Meant to Shine in the Light?

It was a Wednesday evening in mid-February when I came home around 6:30. Everything was frozen outside. The temperature was close to minus forty degrees. Heavy snow was falling, covering the streets, cars, and rooftops in white.

Winnipeg winters have a way of turning you inward. When the world outside is cold and frozen, there isn’t much to do but look inside yourself. The long, cold days teach patience and stillness. The deep quiet gives room for thought. I feel these winters have taught me to slow down and reflect on what lives within.

I had planned to meditate tonight, knowing no one would be home. A few times each week, I set aside quiet time – no phone, no company, no distractions. I would like to create a space to sit with myself. Sometimes we need to be alone to meet the stranger within. During the day, we are surrounded by people and noise. We fill our time with endless distractions, trying to avoid the one who lives inside us. When I walked in, the stillness of my home greeted me like an old friend. The silence felt warm and peaceful, ready to hold space for my meditation.

I decided to create a small sanctuary for my meditation. I lit a few candles in the living room, turned off the lights, and played soft classical Persian music. The melody touched something ancient within me. The room began to radiate with gentle candlelight. I burned a stick of frankincense and watched the smoke rise. It looked as if it were dancing gently in the air.

In that quiet, I felt as if I had stepped into one of Zoroastrian’s fire temples. The sacred fire had burned for thousands of years in those temples. The shadow of the candlelight was shining on the walls. It seemed very alive, whispering ancient prayers once spoken in devotion. Fire is a symbol of purity, truth, and divine light in that tradition. It reveals what is hidden, burning away illusion and darkness. It brings everything into the light. It reminds us to live with the light of consciousness.

As I sat there, watching the flames, I understood that the fire was not just outside me. It was a light of awareness within me, waiting to be remembered. I sat down in the armchair and let my eyes rest on the candle flame. Its light was alive, yet calm. There was a mystical silence in its glow.

I began to practice what is called self-remembering. It is a meditation of looking outward and inward at the same time, to meet the observer within. As I watched the flame, I also noticed myself watching it. Self-remembering is the simple act of being aware of our own awareness. In that moment, we connect with who we truly are. We remember ourselves again. I felt a connection to something deeper – my true self, the observer within.

As I watched the flame, I noticed my breath and my body posture. I watched feelings and thoughts come and go, like clouds passing in the sky. Thoughts often act like restless monkeys, jumping from one branch to another. They are like travelers in a busy airport, never staying for long. Sometimes they feel like crowds in a shopping mall. The mind can be noisy – filled with voices from the past or whispers of the future. Thoughts move constantly, always in motion, as restless as monkeys.

In self-remembering meditation, the aim is not to chase thoughts or push them away. It is to watch them come and go, while keeping the eyes softly on the flame. The candle became a bridge, awakening the light within me. As I sat there, I felt I was between two worlds. I was aware of the flame in front of me and the light of consciousness within.

Sitting in the chair and practicing self-observation felt like sitting before a great mirror. I was watching myself without a mask, without justification or illusion. There was no need to explain, defend, or decorate anything. I could simply see myself as I was. It felt like walking backward through time, retracing my steps. I began to look again at the places I had once passed without awareness.

When I looked into that space, I saw more than the face I knew. I saw many versions of myself – the child, the seeker, the wanderer, the father, the husband, the lover, the therapist, the dreamer, and the one watching it all. Each reflection carried its own story and its own choices.

It is not always comfortable to see oneself without any filters. It is like standing naked in front of a mirror. Yet there is freedom in it as well. I begin to see how every choice, even the mistaken ones, has brought me to this very moment. The mirror does not judge. It simply reflects everything as it is.

The mind’s function is to hold. It is like a camera, capturing and clinging to memories, feelings, thoughts, and moments. The mind is possessive. It puts everything into boxes and calls it “mine.” It does not reflect reality like a mirror. Instead, it tries to own what it sees. Yet, we possess nothing ultimately. We are only observers, moving through life and experiencing things that do not truly belong to us.

There was once a mystic lying on his deathbed. His students asked him what his final wish was. He said, “When I die, leave my hands outside the coffin.” They were surprised and asked why. The mystic said, “I want people to see that I came into this world empty-handed, and I will leave empty-handed. I brought nothing with me, and I will take nothing when I go.”

As I sat with these thoughts, I felt sad about how much of life we spend running from ourselves. We fill our days with noise, work, people, and endless thoughts – anything to avoid looking within. But when all of that fades, what remains is just us. We can run from many things and many people, but we can never run from ourselves. Wherever we go, there we are.

The more I looked within, the more the layers began to fall away. It felt like holding a flashlight and shining it into every corner of my past and present. I looked without judgment and saw that even my mistakes had meaning. As I sat quietly, watching my thoughts pass by, I began to feel the emotions that came with them. Some were uncomfortable and carried traces of regret. Others were light and joyful, full of warmth and pleasant memories. Each feeling had its own color and texture. It appeared for a moment, then faded away, leaving only awareness behind.

I realized I didn’t need to hold on to any of them. Like clouds passing through the sky, feelings are meant to move. I could watch them come and go without resistance. The mind, I thought, should be like the open sky – vast and free, never clinging to the passing clouds. In that quiet awareness, a calm space opened within me. Nothing needed to be changed or fixed. Everything simply was as it was.

The more I look, the more I notice the one who is seeing – the witness behind it all. It is a connection with the one who has always been there, quietly watching, patiently waiting for me to return. In that quiet witnessing, a gentle peace begins to grow. It is knowing that perhaps I am not becoming something new, but finally remembering who I have always been.

As one begins to remember oneself, a gentle neutrality arises. It is a state of being where judgment is absent. In that space, true understanding begins. Slowly, a shift takes place. A quiet whisper rises within: “This is my story, and I accept it.”

You begin to accept both your shadow and your light. Then, gently, you say to yourself: “All my experiences are part of me. I carry my shadow and my light as one.” With that acceptance, you return to the present moment. It is what it is. From this place of clarity, you begin to ask:

What have I learned from my life?
How has it shaped who I am today?
How much effort am I willing to make to become who I want to be?
And how can I stay in the light and not fall back into the shadows?

To remain in the light, we must nourish it every day. The light within us fades only when we forget to care for it. Each moment offers a choice – to act with awareness or ignorance, thus spoke Zarathustra. We cannot fight the shadow directly. Instead, we must bring more light of consciousness and understanding to ourselves. The shadow cannot exist where light is present.

That is why the sacred fire has been kept burning for thousands of years in Zoroastrian temples, despite the many hardships faced throughout history. To maintain the fire is a metaphor for our own effort to sustain awareness and consciousness in our thoughts, words, and actions. Without this awareness, we fall into the darkness of our own ignorance. For the path walked with wisdom and love will never be dark.

Reflection Journal #1

Self-Remembering:

Find a quiet space where you will not be disturbed. Light a candle and focus your gaze on the flame. Bring your attention inward while observing the flame. Alternatively, place a small standing mirror in front of you. Look into your own eyes.

Observe whatever is unfolding within you, without judgment. Notice your thoughts and feelings as they pass by, without holding on to them. Allow yourself to simply witness them. Write down or reflect on whatever arises.

When you feel ready, tell yourself:

“This is my story, and I accept it. All my experiences are part of me. I carry my shadow and my light as one.”

Then take a moment to reflect on these questions:

What have I learned from my life?
How has it shaped who I am today?
How much effort am I willing to make to become who I want to be?
And how can I stay in the light and not fall back into the shadows?

From Darkness Into Light
Why Stay in the Shadow When We Are Meant to Shine in the Light?
by Bahram Moterassed (Spitama) aka Gopal
Independently published, November 2025, 75 pages
Paperback and Kindle
ISBN-13: ‎ 979-8275533903
ASIN: ‎B0G3GP4J5S
zpublication.org/books
amazon.com