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Going into Darkness by Jinjer Stanton Darkness takes away the surfaces of things. It takes away appearances and leaves behind the mystery. Those who manipulate appearances are left bereft in the night. With the surfaces gone, with the appearances gone, all that is left is the truth. We like the appearances and the illusion because they are easy to grasp. They are complete in four dimensions (length, width, height and time). But the truth that lies behind surfaces is vast and unknowable. It occupies more dimensions than we can count. It is only in darkness we can begin to imagine some part of its nature. In a cave the darkness is so thick it seems solid, yet it is unresisting as we wave our arms and it swallows our voices like sand in a desert swallows water. It swallows rock and water -- even our bodies. We are left to contemplate the infinite nothing out of which our bodies and the rocks and water take their substance. Wrapped in the velvet cloak of darkness, I feel liberated. In the dark, there are no classmates to sneer at my shyness, no employers to lambaste me, and no parents expecting me to fulfill their disappointed dreams. There are no expectations in the night. Growing up, I was tossed around from one family to another. Each situation had its own set of rules and expectations. These rules were never clearly set out and they never matched exactly the rules of either my birth family or any other family I lived with. With every breath I drew in daylight or well-lit rooms, I was in danger of breaking a rule and drawing wrath down upon myself. And I learned to love the night. In the darkness, there were no prying eyes to betray me. I was safe in the darkness, because I was less exposed. There was no need to keep constantly alert for possible pitfalls and vengeful adults. I could relax and let the true me be. I could cry without someone offering to give me something to cry about. I wrote my first poems for the darkness. I wrote them in the night. In the darkness, I could feel the rich, warm love of spirit. I tapped into the ancient wisdom and infinite creativity that moves in all things. I breathed the sweet breath of ecstasy that cannot be felt beneath the sun. Daylight fed my fears, but the night, and the gentle spirits that came to comfort me then, carried them all away. I could believe I had a noble destiny, whatever I was told in daylight. I was safe. I could be my true self, I could feel the true nature of the universe caressing the edges of my consciousness. Of course, I didn't know that's what it was at first. I thought it was the wind tossing my hair, and howling my loneliness through the night. I thought it was the rain crying cleansing tears when I felt hollow inside. And I thought it was the stars bending low to hear my whispered dreams when no one else could be trusted with the secret. But through the fabric of the night, Spirit pressed close and wrapped velvet arms about me. When I wailed my yearning to the stars, spirit whispered softly though the darkness, "Love is all around you, child. It cannot fail." And I relaxed into that soft embrace to sleep. The writings I have from then reveal little of my daylight pain. Looking back now, I see that messages of hope and wisdom were being constantly channeled to me in the dark. For much of my life I had difficulty understanding why others prefer day to night and light to dark. But I also had trouble trusting the information I received in the dark when I stood in the full light of day and heard the people I came in contact with as they gave their opinions on the nature of life with such certainty -- even as they contradicted my knowing. But, over time, I have seen the truth of my midnight reassurances play out reliably while the certain pronouncements made in the light of logic and fact have proven weak and unable to sustain themselves. Things seen in the bright light of day are all surfaces and appearance, and those surfaces hide the magical reality that makes them possible. Also over time, my trust in those dark revelations has grown strong enough to support me through the cruelty of the day and has even torn aside the surface masks that hide reality. While, perhaps, the day has not grown more dependable, I have begun to see how the truth of the night shines through and reveals itself in miracles. I've begun to question the comfortable lies that look so solid in sunlight. For instance: the idea that there is a right way and a wrong way to do something is a lie the light of logic tells. In fact, there are many ways of accomplishing a given task, some of them more efficient than others, yet the experience of doing a thing the less efficient way can yield a deeper understanding and appreciation of the task at hand. It can also lead to creative new ways of doing things. Just today I saw an example of this at the plant nursery where I work. Two people were working at the same job, cleaning dead flowers from the hanging baskets. The blue-haired boy had set up a work station for himself that suspended the plants at a comfortable height so he could turn and tilt them easily. With his setup he could efficiently work through the greenhouse and get a sense of accomplishment by seeing how many pots he got done. The Earth-mother wandered through the greenhouse, pausing by any plant that caught her attention and picking at it until it looked nice again. She was in conscious relationship with each plant as she worked on it, and her sense of accomplishment came from grooming a plant until it looked its very best. We speak of enlightenment as being the highest of spiritual goals, but without going into the darkness where the distractions and lies of daylight are quenched, the light of Spirit cannot easily break through. We speak of going into the silence as though only sound is distracting, but light dazzles us. We festoon our cities with sparkling light at night and go out to nightspots that glitter like diamonds and clang with driving rhythm. But beyond the lights and noise lie silence and darkness, waiting like true love for when we are ready to commit ourselves to the reality that moves beneath everything we think is real. Jinjer Stanton's goal is to translate her experience in grounding her spirituality into useful tools for others to use on their own paths. She offers practical spiritual coaching as well as tarot and astrology to further that end. Contact her at (612) 722-9703 or at jinjer@isd.net. Copyright (c) Jinjer Stanton |
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