​December Darkness

In the Pacific Northwest, December arrives not with a sparkle of snow or a glint of frost but with an enveloping, gloomy grayness. The light lessens and the days contract into short periods of heavy, cold cloudiness. Day after day, rain falls in a slow, soaking drizzle. And the sun, when it deigns to appear at all, arcs low across the horizon before sloping off into the silence of the night. It is a time when sunlight, any sunlight, is rare and aptly-named “sunbreaks” are precious and noteworthy events. Meanwhile, nature herself seems steeped in shadow - quiet, subdued, and withdrawn.
 
At this time of year, nature slows down, turns inward, and rests. The flourish of Fall’s abundance is long gone. Fields lie fallow and bare. Bats, bears, and chipmunks hibernate. Songbirds sit silently in shrubs and bushes. And trees stand leafless and gaunt, their limited energy directed inward and downward.
 
For many human beings who live here, the darkness of December feels oppressing and depressing. The lack of light permeates one’s entire body - sapping its energy, slowing its pace, and dissolving any drive to do. Yet perhaps this is not an obstacle to be overcome, but an invitation to be accepted. An invitation to slow down, turn inward, and rest, just like nature. Seen this way, December darkness reminds us that we human beings need a quiet time too. A time to recuperate and reflect on all the activity of Spring, Summer, and Fall. A time to process and integrate all that has happened. A time to reflect on our lives and let go of what is no longer needed.
 
At this time of year, nature invites us to surrender our human addictions to light and speed – literally and metaphorically. We live in a culture that worships brightness and busyness, productivity, progress, and predictability. These obsessions are driven by a desire for life to be all joy and no sorrow, all positives and no negatives, all sweetness and no sourness. A strategy to sidestep the shadow side of life, with all of its difficulties, discomforts, and disappointments, this powerful desire often transforms into an expectation or even a belief that can cause us much dissatisfaction and discontent.
 
Life is, by its nature, composed of sorrow and joy, negatives and positives, sourness and sweetness. To desire, expect or believe otherwise is delusion. So like all fixes, any attempt to live only in the light is doomed to fail. The more we deny the inevitable darkness in life, the more it will haunt us. Like the ancient Chinese principle of yin and yang: Light requires dark and dark requires light. It’s not just that they co-exist; they co-define each other.
 
Light always casts a shadow because dark and light are inseparable, intertwined as eternal partners in the dance of human existence. The fictional character of Peter Pan comes to mind. In J.M. Barrie’s book of the same name, Peter accidentally loses his shadow and Wendy has to re-attach it to him. Without his shadow, he cannot be whole.
 
In this way, darkness is not just the absence of light; it has a unique presence. Sharpening and deepening perception, darkness can allow us to discern what lies beyond and beneath the light. It reminds us that life is not only about what can seen with our outer eyes, it is also about what we can discern with our inner eyes – the eyes of the heart and the soul. Inviting inner perception, darkness can reveal trenchant truths and intense insights that are not obvious in the light.
 
But we often fear the darkness. Bringing us face-to-face with all the unacknowledged and unwanted parts of ourselves - unfulfilled desires, loneliness, doubts, and worries – it can be a very scary place. When the outer world disappears into the shadows, the voices of the inner world get louder and more insistent. Painful emotions - sadness, grief, resentment, and many others - call out to us, demanding that we listen and do their bidding. Like the Sirens in Greek mythology, they lure us into down into the depths – the depths of our own being. And there we may encounter what we fear the most – our utter vulnerability in the face of life’s fundamental uncertainty and our powerlessness to completely control anything – ourselves, other people, what happens in the world, and ultimately death itself.
 
Yet on the spiritual path going into darkness is necessary. To fully know ourselves, we need to descend to our deepest depths occasionally. Without making this jagged and jarring journey, we remain trapped on the surface of our lives, like moths attracted to light, ceaselessly flapping our wings and going nowhere, except to a meaningless death. Unless we are willing to descend into the darkness and follow wherever it leads, we can never know the full depths of the human soul. We will never understand its love, its sacredness, and its wisdom.
 
Paradoxically, if we are willing to make this descent, we can find the light. As Martin Luther King Jr. said “Only in the darkness can you see the stars”. In this way, being with the unacknowledged and unwanted parts of ourselves enables us to grow on the spiritual path. The 16th century mystic John of the Cross understood this when he said “In the darkness, the soul learns what the light cannot teach.”
 
And what does it learn? In the darkness, the soul can learn courage and caring, patience and perseverance, forbearance and fearlessness, acceptance and equanimity, humility and perhaps even how to have a little humor. Stripping away ignorance and illusion, being in the dark enables us to uncover the bare truth of who and what we are: spiritual beings living in human bodies. By seeing the truth and healing ourselves, we become whole.
 
This is a wisdom we need now, perhaps more than ever before. The modern world is adrift, brightly lit, constantly in motion, and going nowhere fast. Under glaring, artificial lights, we search incessantly for satisfaction, for security, for something or someone to hold onto and make us feel whole. Living lives that lack love, meaning and purpose, many are depressed, fearful, and anxious.
 
This time of year reminds us that healing, wholeness and lasting happiness come not so much from constant light and busyness, but from slowing down, turning inward, resting in the shadows and allowing ourselves to be remade and healed.
 
To re-align ourselves with the restorative and regenerative cycles of nature, we might slow down and sleep more, read poetry instead of news, call a friend instead of texting, or cook slow meals instead of eating fast food. We might buy less and meditate more. We might turn off all the lights and all the screens and sit in silence for a while. We might walk outside at dusk, sensing how sight becomes subtler, sound becomes softer, and touch becomes more intimate.
 
By late December, the days are beginning to lengthen again. Almost imperceptibly, the light lingers a moment longer,  and we can sometimes feel the subtle stirring of life returning. But something in us has changed because of our journey in the dark. Having had the courage to immerse ourselves in it, we emerge kinder and more compassionate - more attuned to the small miracles that sustain our lives through all the seasons. We carry the wisdom of the dark with us into the growing light—a wisdom that knows how to rest, how to slow down, how to listen, how to let go, and how to trust.
 
So when the darkness of December descends—the sky heavy with clouds, the rain falling relentlessly, and no sight of the sun—we can meet it not with resistance, but with respect and reverence. We can join nature in slowing down, turning inward, and resting, so that the internal work can be done. The darkness is not something to struggle against or evade, it is an essential season of life—the out-breath before the in-breath, the deconstruction before the reconstruction, the pregnant emptiness that holds the promise of all becoming. 

Forthcoming Events

Thursday, December 11, 5:00 - 6:15 pm on Zoom 
Mindfulness Meditation & More
*** CANCELLED***

Tuesday, January 6 4:00 - 5:15 pm in Person
Healing Circles Langley
Mindfulness Meditation & More

Tuesday, January 20 4:00 - 5:15 pm in Person
Healing Circles Langley
Mindfulness Meditation & More

No events in February as I will be on retreat for the month
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