Facing the dark

We live in dark times, friend. Not a bad darkness, per se. Not a dying, in the larger view. Rather the opposite. The passing away of darkness itself. But in the mean time, re-experiencing of it.

I think we can all use inspiration and courage for recognizing that what is dark now in our experience is what later will have its own, self-generated organic light.

Not a light given to us, but a light emanating from us. A radiance from what’s in our core.

The following pop song references the difficulty of loving the dark, when it hurts.

I let the forbidden, feared, pushed-away part speak her piece first, then permitted the arrival of a loving, safety-building bigger self with something nice to say to me.

I started as a catharsis song , then it morphed into a bit of Guardian song.

All in all it represents a dialogue between a part of me captured in the tangles of earth time (the one who feels walled in by darkness), and another part who is not bound in lower, crushed spaces, and can therefore shine some kindness.

What do I get out of this experience? It’s just a loss with no name. What do I get out of this experience, besides a deep driving pain? I don’t want to feel it anymore. I don’t want to feel anything anymore.

What does one get out of dark experience, besides a fragmented heart? My heart has been shattered before. I don’t want to shatter it anymore.

You have got to turn and face your dark, or you will never know who you are. You are not as bad as you believe. Nothing is as bad as you believe. I bet you’d like what you are! It’s nothing like they told you you were.

That is what you get from this experience. No idea who you are. That is what you get from experience. To know you have no idea, what you are.

You have no idea what you are! It’s nothing like they told you you were.

My Invitation to You:

Do a similar dialogue first in writing, then possibly in another arts channel too. Make sure you create distinct spaces for both sides of the dialogue, making sure that the suffering part gets her time on the mic.

To start the dialogue off, reflect: in your moments of demoralization, what do you sometimes wish you could say, give into, or give voice to? Answering the question: how do I feel about the darkness within and around me?

Let this part give voice, and don’t attempt to cheer her up, put a good face on it, or be less dark. Let her be as dark as she actually is.

Then see if you have something nice to say to her. Another side of you can respond.

This is a dialogue, in which you do your self the courtesy of getting some things off her chest. This creates the opening for some light to shine down on yourself.

May this be helpful, friend.

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Thumbnail image respectfully borrowed from The Wonderful Things You Will Be, by Emily Winfield Martin.