~ The Gifts of Darkness ~
If you live in the Northern hemisphere, this time of year can feel rather gloomy, especially if it’s dark, cold and grey outside. As the days get shorter and winter sets in, it can be easy to feel down in the dumps and long for the warm, sunny days of summer. But this time of year can offer many gifts and I’d like to suggest four.
First, the darkness can make winter the perfect time of year to slow down. We can appreciate the sense of quietness and stillness that naturally comes with darkness, and we can use it to cultivate our own inner quietness and stillness. By intentionally making time for meditation, contemplation and reflection, we can descend into the ineffable silence that lies beyond, and encompasses all words and sounds. We begin to listen to what is moving in us. at the deepest levels of our being. To hear what is in our hearts. To listen to the life within each one of us and all around us.
A second gift of darkness is that as we slow down and listen more carefully, we can experience darkness as mystery. We can sense, and be with, the unknown. In this way, the darkness is an invitation to go beyond the comfortable and the familiar. It’s an invitation to drop our assumptions, plans and expectations about how things are, or how we think they should be and just be open to the Great Mystery. As we do this, we can learn to trust the natural unfolding of life. As we let the darkness permeate our being, we begin to discern what is real and true. We experience the darkness on its terms, not on ours. And as we are able to do this, we become more peaceful and more at ease with the unknown.
Poet and essayist Wendell Berry wrote:
“To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.”
We don’t what will happen. We don’t know what may bloom and sing or what paths will be traveled by dark feet and dark wings. We can appreciate darkness – seeing it not as a void or empty, but as the place from which all things emerge and to which all things return.
A third gift of darkness is that when we immerse ourselves fully in it, pin pricks of light and understanding naturally become visible. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said: “It is only when it is dark enough that you can see the stars.” So as we open and relax into the darkness, the stars become more obvious. By being in darkness, the brilliance of the stars emerges. New ways of seeing, understanding and insights shine out and emerge into awareness. So we can trust the darkness, even if it is uncomfortable or painful at times.
In this way, darkness and light can co-exist. There is no light without the shadow of darkness, and there is no shadow without light. They go together as partners; darkness and light are not opposites. Rather, they are mutually dependent on each other. As Canadian social pioneer Jean Vanier wisely said: “Every human being is a mixture of light and darkness, trust and fear, love and hate.”
So I invite you to turn inwards during this season of darkness. Learning to stop in order to find movement. Learning to be in the unknown in order to find knowing. And learning to let the darkness in, in order to experience the light.
And trusting it all.
First, the darkness can make winter the perfect time of year to slow down. We can appreciate the sense of quietness and stillness that naturally comes with darkness, and we can use it to cultivate our own inner quietness and stillness. By intentionally making time for meditation, contemplation and reflection, we can descend into the ineffable silence that lies beyond, and encompasses all words and sounds. We begin to listen to what is moving in us. at the deepest levels of our being. To hear what is in our hearts. To listen to the life within each one of us and all around us.
A second gift of darkness is that as we slow down and listen more carefully, we can experience darkness as mystery. We can sense, and be with, the unknown. In this way, the darkness is an invitation to go beyond the comfortable and the familiar. It’s an invitation to drop our assumptions, plans and expectations about how things are, or how we think they should be and just be open to the Great Mystery. As we do this, we can learn to trust the natural unfolding of life. As we let the darkness permeate our being, we begin to discern what is real and true. We experience the darkness on its terms, not on ours. And as we are able to do this, we become more peaceful and more at ease with the unknown.
Poet and essayist Wendell Berry wrote:
“To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.”
We don’t what will happen. We don’t know what may bloom and sing or what paths will be traveled by dark feet and dark wings. We can appreciate darkness – seeing it not as a void or empty, but as the place from which all things emerge and to which all things return.
A third gift of darkness is that when we immerse ourselves fully in it, pin pricks of light and understanding naturally become visible. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said: “It is only when it is dark enough that you can see the stars.” So as we open and relax into the darkness, the stars become more obvious. By being in darkness, the brilliance of the stars emerges. New ways of seeing, understanding and insights shine out and emerge into awareness. So we can trust the darkness, even if it is uncomfortable or painful at times.
In this way, darkness and light can co-exist. There is no light without the shadow of darkness, and there is no shadow without light. They go together as partners; darkness and light are not opposites. Rather, they are mutually dependent on each other. As Canadian social pioneer Jean Vanier wisely said: “Every human being is a mixture of light and darkness, trust and fear, love and hate.”
So I invite you to turn inwards during this season of darkness. Learning to stop in order to find movement. Learning to be in the unknown in order to find knowing. And learning to let the darkness in, in order to experience the light.
And trusting it all.