Friday, September 7, 2018

Learning to Walk in the Dark

From a young age, we are fearful of the dark. We are fearful of monsters under our beds, fearful of being outside after dark. We use all sorts of things to keep the darkness away: we have night lights in our bedrooms, flashlights for outside. This fear of the dark, somehow transfers into our hearts, into our minds. We begin to think that preventing any form of darkness is the goal, that any pain or loss should be avoided at all cost. While no one likes to experience pain or loss, we don’t live in a world without it and yet, no one seems to teach us how to not only walk in the dark times that we encounter but how to sit in the dark times when the darkness doesn’t go away.

Darkness, pain, illness are not new things for me. I have been sitting in the darkness for many years now. I am a professional darkness sitter.  

I remember many years ago, after I was diagnosed with CIDP, a friend at the time asking, "How are you still smiling? Things are awful right now and you are smiling…I don’t understand how." Well, I’m crazy! No, that was not my answer. My answer was this, this is an incredibly difficult time in my life, I have several choices in how I respond to this difficulty. I can give up and let this horrid disease kill me. I can whine and complain and be bitter about how life didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to. Or I can choose to find joy in the midst of a horrible illness.  

I am not sure who instilled that notion inside me, I’m going to have to assume that it’s the genetic grit that I inherited from both of my parents. They grew up in very different circumstances than I did: abuse, alcoholism, neglect were the things they dealt with as kids. A very far reality from my upbringing. Darkness is not a new concept to us.

I just finished reading a book about this topic. Barbara Brown Taylor wrote, "I think this may be a book about living with loss, which is tough enough in any place or time but is especially difficult in a culture that works so hard to look the other way." Again I ask, who is teaching us how to keep going when ‘shit hits the fan’?  

In her book, she asked some pointed questions that I know I asked years ago and continue to today when the darkness feels likes it’s going to envelop me.

-What can you learn about your fear of it by staying with it for a moment?

-Where can you feel the fear in your body?

-When have you felt that way before?

-What are you afraid is going to happen to you?

-What is your mind telling you to do about it?

-What stories do you tell yourself to keep your fear in place?

-What helps you stay conscious even when you are afraid?

-What have you learned in the dark that you could have never learned in the light?

Most people do not get very far into these questions before they want to stop. I fully get that. Facing the fears in your world is scary. Answering one question at a time and taking deep breaths will maybe get through the entire list at some point. Acceptance and peace comes after you’ve been able to stare your worst fears in the face and call them by name. 

There has been a lot of heartache in my world of friends in the past several months: death, suicide attempts, infidelity, divorce, major illness, marital strife, mental health issues with children…so much pain, exhaustion and hurt. It would be very easy to curl up into a big comfy blanket and stay there. But, I always come back to these thoughts when my world seems like it’s unraveling at the seems:

-sit (in the darkness) for awhile

-it’s ok to feel sad

-it’s ok to cry

-don’t give up just because it’s hard

-don’t give up just because it hurts

-life is still worth living

-love is still worth pursuing

-talk with someone about it

I am not sure why I needed to get these things out of my head and heart. I suppose I needed the reminder right now, maybe you needed a reminder too. Don’t try to be superman or superwoman and go at life alone, it’s too damn hard. Ask for help, it is humbling for sure, but the relationships you form will grow deeper than you can imagine.  

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