The Divine Darkness
Many moons ago, I was in a yoga class practicing behind a young contortionist. She was a lovely combination of Gumby and ballet dancer. Her flexibility was enviable to me. At that time, I was more competitive than flexible, both on the mat and off. I ignored my body’s signals and went deeper in poses then I should have, held them longer than necessary, and basically injured myself pretty badly as a result.
Hindsight being 20/20 and all, this was my first lesson in learning what can happen when I didn’t listen to my own needs. My focus was external and I attempted to emulate that because to me it seemed that someone else’s experience was more interesting than mine. Truthfully, I was not even paying attention to my own experience. I was too attached to what I looked like in comparison to the people around me.
Pain can be a swift teacher, especially if we pay attention. That injury, which was back pain and sciatica that lasted about a year, got my attention.
In order to pay attention, we often have to stop. Or at the very least, slow way the heck down. We have to learn to close the gates of our senses and shine the light of our awareness inwardly.
We are being called to do that now. Both the earth situation and the earth cycles are calling for this. The pain of this pandemic is a swift teacher. We have all sorts of mixed feelings about schools being closed again, about whether or not to see family and friends for the holidays, and about how completely we may have to recede from the world again to calm the explosion of Covid. The pain and discomfort of this certainly has my attention.
It has shown me how attached I am to my way of doing things. I am attached to having certain experiences for the holidays, like big family get-togethers. I am attached to the freedom I have in my day when the girls are in school in person. I am attached to the experience of being social, to hugging, to dining out, to Christmas shopping in the crowded Columbus Circle open-air market. I am attached to the many privileges I have had in the past. I am attached to the comfort of knowing that these privileges will continue.
The pain and discomfort of my attachments has my attention. And as an older and wiser Alyssa would have done all those moons ago on her mat, I now pause and listen and watch that discomfort. I close my eyes and I feel it. And in that pause I feel the natural cycles of life guiding me.
While everything about this pandemic and the imminent closure of everything (again) is uncomfortable and it may even seem unnatural, slowing down and simplifying is the most natural action to take as our days get shorter and the nights get longer.
The darkness brings us a potent opportunity to go inward. To sleep more. Rest more. Listen more, to ourselves and to the silence within us. It is an opportunity to experience the Divine Darkness.
In this experience, we find that darkness is simply another expression of the light.
When we slow down, we feel better. When we rest more and sleep more soundly, we have more energy. When we turn down the volume of outside noise, we experience the richness of the silence within us. When we become less interested in what everyone else is doing, we can hear more clearly the voice of our own needs.
My words today are intended to be a warm hug for you. A cozy blanket and a cup of cocoa. A reassurance that it will be okay. And a reminder that it is okay to curl up, rest, and wait.
Let this darkness nourish you as you rest deeply and restore from the experience of this year. Release your grip a bit and let nature take her course.
