Listening to the Dark
February is cold and grey in all of its hues. Green, grey, white and brown. That is today, anyway. We have had several days of sun, blues, golden yellow, orange, and pink, as the sun went down at a late five thirty. I have been grateful, and yet I feel the heaviness. I do my best to embrace winter. I get outside often, in the rain, wind and snow. Right now, I remain hopeful. March is on the horizon, and we know it is said, it comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. My birthday is the twenty seventh of March, and as I celebrate my age and life, and all that is to come, I enjoy the first week of spring and the mild weather that usually occurs. But that is not now. Today as I rest, having had hard workouts Monday and Wednesday, and a nice two mile walk on Tuesday, I find myself embracing winter in its late and final days. As spring waits patiently to come forth, I too wait patiently, and must accept what is today; the cold and the grey.
In these darker months, I am able to sit with and peel away the layers of my grief, anger and shame. I have been healing. I have allowed difficult feelings to arise, and I have felt the release as I let them go for good. My mind is clear and clean, and what has been so chronic in my life, mental illness and symptoms, gradually falls away. What is left is a person bright and willing. The other day in Quaker meeting, during an hour silence and meditation, I felt fear come up in myself. I could identify this fear. It was the fear of having another mental health relapse. I was a little overwhelmed, and had to step outside for a moment. As I came back to the meeting, I sat quietly and looked inward at the fear. I felt it dissolve. I literally felt it go away. I believe this fear had been coming up the couple days prior, and was acting like anxiety or like an impending doom that was following me around. It wasn’t until I sat in silence and addressed the fear, and called it out by name, that I was able to let it go. The anxiety and sense or doom or peril left as well. Serenity took its place.
How much of this fear did I truly let go of, and will it return? It might. But I continue to work the skills that I have learned in my recovery in order to master difficult emotions, bring them to light and let them go. I know that I am not alone in harboring difficult emotions, and I know that I am not alone in the dark days of the Pacific Northwest winters, and how they can affect the psyche. I know many that search out the sun, and they travel or even relocate for two or three months this time of year to a sunnier environment. The darkness can feel heavy and onerous. But there is a metaphor here. The darkness that surrounds me, and the cold, parallel the difficult emotions deep down in my core. In the darkness, when I fall asleep, is when I enter a dream world where I can access my subconscious and even work through my issues while dreaming. More darkness and longer sleep means more time spent asleep dreaming and resting. Just as the silence brought about the release of a deep fear inside of myself, hibernating in the cold winter months can offer a good platform for starting this soul work and learning to truly let go.
One great truth is that I cannot control the weather. This can be a doorway to relinquishing control and asking for guidance from the still voice within. It is a time for listening, and practicing listening. I yearn for the sun so that I can spend time in active praise and worship for all that is warm, glowing, blooming and beautiful. If I cherish the darkness for what it has to offer me on this healing journey, perhaps I will be even more receptive to the beauty and the change that is coming. I want to be open and free. I want to feel the light. I must work with the darker heavier parts of me if I am to achieve this.