Like any true myth, the story about Anakin Skywalker turning to the dark side is compelling in its overwhelming persuasiveness. What led Anakin to the dark side?
C.S. Lewis once wrote in a letter to Peter Milward that a good myth is
“a story out of which varying meanings will grow for different readers and in different ages.”
And then he added that a myth is not really dependent on the words in which it is told or the art form in which it is conveyed. It’s not the narrative itself that makes the myth convincing but something much more elusive.
“The narrative is more of a net whereby we catch something else.”
What led Anakin to the dark side?
What I caught in the net of the Star Wars myth is HOW Anakin was led to the dark side — it happened, oddly enough, through his inordinate desire for something good.
As a young boy he swore a solemn oath at his mother’s grave: “When I grow up, I will become strong and will never let my loved ones suffer and die.”
This oath marked his transition to the dark side long before it happened in chronological time. At that moment, a bargain was struck in his soul for the possession of a loved one in exchange for breaking God’s law.
At that moment, he made a decision for himself to never ever part with his loved ones again, no matter the cost. The perfectly good desire — to protect his loved ones from death — turned in him into a demonic possession when he put it on a pedestal.
An idol is usually a good thing that we make ultimate. We say, “Unless I have that, I am nothing.”
Why did Anakin choke Padme?
When Anakin had to choose between losing Padme — fearing that she might die in childbirth — or turning to evil to “save” her from death, he chose evil. It was his desire to “save” her at all costs that led Anakin to the dark side. For him, the dark side became a means of saving his loved one. He chose evil to achieve what he thought was the ultimate good.
Ironically, this led to Padme’s death. He choke the one he wanted to save with his own hands. When we turn a good thing into the ultimate thing and try to get it at all costs, we lose that good thing — destroy it with our own hands.
Such is the harsh logic of idolatry. We are captivated by some version of good and turn it into the “summum bonum” — without noticing it. And then everything becomes a means to an end, a sacrifice offered on the altar of this god.
A wise man once said that a myth is something everyone knows without being told. This “story” lives in humanity’s collective unconscious, and we all instantly recognize it once it is put in the form of a narrative.
In the blue-blue sea, there lived a fish called Self-Fish.
What a strange name, you might say.
Who gives such a name?
Well, it’s actually a whole group of fish. They are called “Self-Fish” by other sea creatures who are sure about themselves that they don’t belong to this category.
She knew very well who she was – Self-Fish. Of that she was reminded daily.
“Stop thinking about yourself all the time.”
“You never care about others,” the others chided.
“Why are you looking at yourself all the time?”
“If you weren’t Self-Fish, you would have had more compassion on our poor nerves.”
“Why am I Self-Fish?” thought Self-Fish. “I need to change. From now on I will think about others all the time.”
And that’s what she did.
Tired of being shamed and blamed, she decided she would be looking out for the interest of others.
She was hoping that others would start appreciating her more and more and would finally stop calling her Self-Fish.
But the more she tried to please others, the less they seemed pleased.
In fact, they blamed her all the more.
“You should think more about others and less about yourself! Shame on you, Self-Fish.”
“What’s happening?” thought Self-Fish.
“It’s not working. Am I so hopeless?”
And so, she doubled and even tripled her efforts.
But the more she tried, the less it worked.
Finally, she got so exhausted and hopeless of pleasing others that she flung up her fins in utter desperation:
“I must be doomed. I was born Self-Fish, and I will die Self-Fish.”
“Die hard,” said a crab who lived next door, and whose name happened to be Bruce.
“What do you mean?” asked Self-Fish in bewilderment.
“Nothing. Just talking to myself,” grunted Bruce as he clipped off a seaweed with his sharp claw.
“What’s your problem?”
“I am,” replied Self-Fish, “I am Self-Fish.”
“No worries,” said Bruce. “Have a coffee.” And he handed her a Frappuccino.
“You know what? Stop trying to save the world,” finally said Bruce after a pause.
“It never works. Believe me, I know. No matter how many times you try to save the world, it always gets back in a mess.”
“Hmm…,” said Self-Fish, “but if I stop trying to save the world, wouldn’t it be selfish?”
“Selfish is as selfish does,” replied Bruce.
“To be selfless, you must first have a Self that you can give up. There is a world of difference between giving up yourself and giving up on your Self.”
“What do you mean?” asked Self-Fish in utter amazement.
“You must first become who you are. Become Self-Fish.”
“But… but… I am that already!”
“You see, if you don’t have a Self, you are not really a Self-Fish.
And to have a Self, you must start looking at yourself before you look at others. Look at your Self!”
“But if I keep looking at myself, I will be more selfish.”
“Trust me on that,” said Bruce grimly and gave her a look that couldn’t be resisted.
So, Self-Fish looked at herself but didn’t see much to look at.
“What do you see?” asked Bruce.
“Nothing special,” replied Self-Fish.
“Just keep looking. Just keep looking.”
“There’s nothing to look at,” finally said Self-Fish and turned her eyes away.
“It’s just me.”
“Just keep looking.”
“What’s there to see?”
“Don’t you see… a kid?
“A kid?”
“Yes, a scared little kid. A kid who was left all alone in the dark.
Believe me, I have met that kid once. A long time ago.”
“You did?”
“Old story,” said Bruce.
“I see her,” suddenly exclaimed Self-Fish and felt salty tears welling up in her eyes.
It seemed to her that up to this day she had been swimming in the ocean of tears.
“Good. Now take her gently by the fin. Hold tight. And never let her go. No matter what. Don’t leave her. You are her mommy now. And one day, she will be ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“To take on the world.”
“Have to go,” said Bruce.
“There’s another Apocalypse nearby. Remember to always look at her and never-ever-ever let her go, no matter what the others say.”
And then Bruce hopped on his cool Yamaha jetski and was off in a flash.
Sure enough, the “others” showed up in no time.
“Hey, what are you up to?” snapped the red snapper.
“Nothing… just looking at myself,” replied Self-Fish.
“Shame on you, Self-Fish,” snapped the snapper. “Always looking at yourself.”
For a brief moment Self-Fish stopped looking at herself and started looking at the snapper.
Suddenly she felt she was blushing from gill to tail.
She was almost about to blurt out a funny joke or two so as to divert his attention – the art she had mastered so well – but then something made her choke on her own words.
She distinctly heard a small little voice coming from inside her.
“Don’t leave me,” it said.
“What?” echoed Self-Fish and looked at herself intently.
And then she saw a little baby fish left alone in a dark cave and trembling all over.
She looked so little and so miserable that Self-fish immediately wanted to look away, get busy, invite the red snapper to dinner, hide in her little hole at the bottom of the sea – do anything so as to not think about it anymore.
But something made her look. She didn’t even know what it was.
It was so hard not to turn away, and yet there was something very beautiful about that little one.
She had eyes full of ocean-like sadness.
And there was a great big void.
And the void was so deep and wide and empty that one could easily drown in it.
It was like a gaping abyss in the crevice of time, an insatiable black hole sucking everything in with its irresistible gravity.
It was at once a pack of hungry wolves, a mighty hurricane, a raging ocean, and a gentle flower.
And there was beauty in it.
Some soft light was peeping out of that void.
It was coming from within as if it belonged to the void itself.
And this light shone out of the vast emptiness and there was life in it.
And in this light, there was something one could gaze upon hours and hours on end.
There was a river of peace flowing out of it, and a warm embrace of utter tranquility and healing.
There was a desperate cry as well as a dance of joy.
There was profound sorrow as well as a whiff of tingling freshness.
There was an ugly wound and a well of inner harmony.
There was at once Chaos and Order, as if fashioned by the hand of a masterful Artist.
“Don’t leave me,” asked the kid again.
“I am here. I am looking at you,” said Self-Fish, “and I will not leave you.”
The little one stopped trembling and looked up.
Self-Fish took her by the little fin and together they went shopping.
She was constantly looking at her, and the kid seemed to transform before her very eyes.
The longer she looked at her, the calmer and the happier the kid grew.
And with this calmness and peace settled over the little one, Self-Fish totally forgot about others.
She was alone in the world, but for the first time in her life she felt fine in her own company.
She was alone, and yet she wasn’t lonely.
She was by herself, and yet she was keenly aware that there was someone else with her.
As she spoke gently to the kid, it seemed to her that she was hearing another gentle voice speaking to her through her own words.
And as that other kind voice filled her heart and mind, she grew calmer, and stronger, and happier.
“Who are you?” she asked and looked around in amazement.
And from the unfathomable depths of her Self she heard a still small voice saying,
“Don’t look away. I am not out there, I am in here.”
She looked at her kid again, and suddenly it seemed to her that she saw someone else.
She saw another baby far-far away in a cold dark cave, and his mother rocking him gently in a manger and humming a familiar tune.
“I am not out there, I am in here,” repeated the still small voice.
“Just keep looking. Just keep looking.”
She drew closer, peeping into the darkness of the cave, and fixed her gaze firmly upon him.
And as she looked, the darkness of the cave receded like a mighty tidal wave, and a soft light poured from inside of the void, filling it up to the brim.
And her ocean-like sadness shook and gave way to a quiet sigh of relief.
And the salty tears she swam in for years became a bubbling brook of healing waters.
And out of the gaping hole on the inside came a beautiful song – the song of the void.
“Nice song,” commented someone passing by.
“Bruce!” exclaimed Self-Fish. “It’s so good to see you!”
“And you. You look radiant.”
“You know I’ve seen him.”
“The kid?”
“The kid.”
Bruce smiled.
“So, I see you are ready to take on the world,” said he and pointed to the empty seat in his jetski.
She laughed, hopped on, and off they went into the big wide blue.
