The darkness is a gift; we will never be free from it. It indicates a massive growth stage is culminating – not upon us, but culminating.
January can be a really dark month for some of us. I know it is for me.
We’ve worked hard all year and often gone deep within ourselves in the dark months of November and December to come into the New Year being more true and honest – stepping into the world as an even more radically aligned version of ourselves.
But as we get closer to the joys of truth, we can encounter what feels like our darkest hour. Truth is vulnerable. Truth inspires fear in a similar way as death. A loss of what we know. A questioning of our worth and everything we’ve done to this point.
Truth triggers existential panic and paralysis just as we are ready to bare our souls. We feel as though the wind’s been knocked out of our sails and we’re directionless.
I have been in the darkness this month. I have struggled to remember why I am here even as I move closer to my “ministry.” Even as things come together, on the inside it feels as if everything is falling apart. I know I am not alone in this.
In this moment we forget who we are: human, a thread of the interconnected fabric of the universe. There is nothing we can mis-create if we remain grounded in Truth.
But there is a manic dialogue in our mind that shames us. It tells us we are lost. That our vision is stupid – or even worse – that perhaps it isn’t our vision at all. But only in the utter darkness can we learn to step without “seeing” as our eyes see. Only in this utter darkness do we learn to cultivate faith. It is the wilderness, the unknown, the sense of not belonging. But it is only here that we start to open up to our own inner wisdom and truth, beyond the lens of the outer world.
We awaken to the gentleness of the soul’s purpose. We are awake to our truth.
And we must learn to walk in a new kind of blindness. One that relies on a different set of senses. We walk through the darkness even when the fear is screaming loudly and all your cells feel as if they might die, and we bring that darkness with us to the light.
Every morning I wake up and observe my depression.
“I must be depressed,” I say to myself. “This is heavy and dark.”
But I know the darkness comes on when I choose again to move into my truth. To take another step up. It is up to us how long we stay in the darkness, and how often it comes around. This is why we walk. Small steps to reaffirm the ground is there even in our terror. The faith in God/Self/Source is established at every heel-toe.
We open to our greatest creative possibility. We slip into a flow. And when we stop questioning the next instinctive move, the dawn breaks.
