In theaters around the world, a single light bulb is left burning on the stage when the theater is dark. It’s called a ghost light. Theater lore tells us that the ghost light invites the ghosts that are said to inhabit all theaters to come onto the stage. It’s a welcoming and an acknowledgement of the spirits that are part of every theater. Some say that if the light goes out, ghosts assume the theater is abandoned and cause mischief.

There’s also a more practical reason for the presence of the ghost light on theater stages. If someone were to wander onto the stage when the theater is dark, they could easily go off the edge and into the orchestra pit. The ghost light is a safety measure. It helps guard against one falling in a pit.

Perhaps we should turn on the ghost light within self. Make it known that all spirits are welcome here. Invite them to show us their specialty, their range, to reveal their backstory. Welcome their characteristics that are shadowy and dark while also leaving open the possibility that they are not one-dimensional, that there is good within them, that a plot twist may be in the works—if we are willing to stick with the show.

Through the Ghost Light offerings, we do just that. You will come to know your cast of characters, both the heroes and the villains. You’ll explore the scenes of your life in which these characters are cast, identifying the cues that beckon them on stage. You’ll learn when they serve the scene and when they don’t. Having become familiar with the plot and the script of your play, you will act as director in the scenes of your life, casting the characters, designing the set, putting in place the props, and engaging in rehearsal.  

To be clear, our goal is not to illuminate our fallback characters so we may once and for all banish them from the theater. You will never be rid of this piece of self. And you don’t want to be. These characters that storm the stage, that go off script, are integral members of your cast. They have something important to teach you. They come prepared with lines that they have been trying to speak for some time. Our goal is to listen to them and to learn.

So let’s resist the temptation to turn off the ghost light when the story itself gets too dark, lest those characters that reside within us assume that the playhouse of self has been abandoned and begin to cause mischief. Because they will. Actors live to be seen, to be acknowledged. Every single part of us, light and dark, does too. We can either set up the illumination and clear the way for the full ensemble to come on stage, or we can risk the characters wandering on stage in the darkness, stumbling off the edge and into a pit. It happens. Best to leave the light on for them.