As the finale push of 2012 approaches, we are moving toward the solstice the longest and darkest day of the year. It feels appropriate to go inward and take some time for reflection. Why not open to darkness and feel into what it might hold? Darkness is literally absence of light, a space where most of us are incapable of seeing. It also has a reference to the opposite of light and can be villainous, something we want to push away as bad, not necessarily something to focus our attention on. Most often darkness is avoided.
As a horse trail guide many years ago, I chose to not take a headlamp or flashlight on overnight pack trips. I always felt nervous of the dark and decided to work with it by not bringing a light so that I would have to rely on my eyes adjusting and other senses to move through the dark. Occasionally, I would spook myself seeing small sets of animal eyes or allowing my mind to get caught in what I thought was scary about the dark. But I learned to work with my mind, breathing and not focusing on my fears but just being present. It changed my awareness and has taught me to navigate the dark in the wilderness somewhat comfortably.
How do we each approach the metaphor of darkness in our lives? The darkness that shows up when we find ourselves working with challenging parts of ourselves. Or moments when our experience makes our hearts hang heavy and dense. What about the times we feel so unclear about the unknown unfolding in the future? Or the darkness that shows up in an experience that seems to get hung up on a judgment track in our head, displaying self doubt and unkind thoughts about ourselves. And how do we meet darkness without trying to escape, react or take on the victim role?
Working with darkness takes practice. What happens if we consciously decide to meet darkness as the heart of solstice reflection. Meet the darkness of the unknown, the silence of the unanswered questions and thoughts not yet formed. What happens if we allow ourselves to stop in the moment and not filter through all the thinking we have come to know so well, but sit in the absence, the lack of light, which can be the space of potential germination?