The Art of Darkness

The tears come in unpredictable waves. Like when I’m dumping scoops of raisins into a brown bag at Whole Foods, or when I walk into the kitchen and see Jonathan sauteing kale at the stove. We are in the midst of the Big Ending and will be leaving this home for the next one in just two weeks.

I am finally standing at the end of the hallway of this chapter and just turned around to look at the totality of this life in San Francisco, and I am in awe of what I see.

If you asked me on any given day how I was feeling the past six years, I would’ve told you that I was ‘OK, not great.’ The combination of Jonathan’s rigorous schedule, back to back babies, financial responsibility and no local family inflicted a heavy weight on my soul. Anxiety, depression, exhaustion, overwhelm have been the primary emotions swirling around me.

Yet… I am crying for the beauty of my life, the love I feel for dozens of soul sisters, the masterpiece of our family.

I’ve wondered if the darkness was real or if I was just being a pessimist? Was I missing the good all around me? Could I have meditated the bad feelings away?

4 years ago when I was sitting in temple with my 13 Moon sisters, I received a message that I needed to accept the dark. I was exuding so much energy pretending everything was fine. I call it Martha-Stewartitis, and it was keeping me in the shallow end, unable to access the depth of my soul. I was petrified to dive in for fear it would consume me and I would never resurface.

In my timid willingness, I heard, “there is light in the darkness” and was shown a vision of the night sky with millions of stars.

So I submerged myself in the black waters and just felt myself resurface about a month ago.

I was sent Darkness medicine in the form of Kate Northrup Origin Membership and LiYana Silver’s new book, Feminine Genius, to help me make sense of what has been happening.

Women are cyclical by nature. Our bodies cycle with the moon, our moods reflect the seasons, we are Mother Earth embodied. Winter is part of the deal of being a woman.

Here’s what I now know about winter:

There are so many things I thought were mine, so many dreams, expectations and attachments, and they were torn away from my tight grip into the abyss and left me sobbing and empty on the floor. When I asked the darkness what wisdom she had for me she said, “You aren’t who you think you are.” whooosh.

Eventually, I would grow used to not having that dream around, and as each one was removed from my vision like newspaper from an old shop window, I could see through to my soul. OH! There I am. I had no idea this was me. I was shocked at first, but over time I remembered.

Winter killed everything in my life except the essentials that lay dormant underground. I am just starting to see the incredible, colorful, lush spring I am entering because I let winter happen.

Death and Rebirth. Destruction and Creation. Winter and Spring. What a sacred union.

Love,
Sarah