Befriending Darkness

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"I said to my soul, be still,
and let the dark come upon you
which shall be the darkness of God."
        -T.S. Eliot

Winter solstice is the shortest day and longest night of the year. The winter solstice was one of the most important celebrations in the pre-Christian world, a liminal space celebrated with ancient festivals when the sun appeared to “standstill,” almost to die and be born again the next day. It also marks the beginning of the lengthening of light, which is why thousands of people gather at sites like Stonehenge and Newgrange to celebrate the return of the sun. 

But first, there is darkness. And though we may no longer be afraid of the dark, most of us still loathe the shadows. Here in the West, we’ve been conditioned to believe light is good and darkness is bad, so we fill our nights with screens and electricity to banish the darkness, but often to our peril. In driving away the darkness we exile the mysterious and destroy the essential balance of light and darkness that life on this planet requires. You began in the darkness of your mother’s womb and even now, your body is filled with darkness. Your heart is currently beating in the dark as your blood pulses through the darkness of your veins. Without darkness, there is no life. 

In our flight from darkness, we miss the transformative opportunity to change. “What darkness has taught me is that it is OK to slow down enough in the dark to feel my way instead of thinking my way forward. And to trust that experience will shape my beliefs in the way beliefs used to shape my experience,” says Barbara Brown Taylor on the latest episode of Holy Heretics podcast. We need only pay attention to Nature’s embrace of darkness to realize its rightful and needed place in our lives. Even now, under the earth’s dark surface of winter, seeds are germinating, transforming themselves into the beauty that will be spring. Every dark ending births a new beginning. 

On this most paradoxical of days when our deepest darkness reveals the return of the light, don’t miss the opportunity to befriend the darkness by asking what she needs to teach you. "I have learned things in the dark that I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life over and over again, so that there is really only one logical conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light," continues Barbara Brown Taylor. 

Tonight, on this darkest of days, go outside and sit in the darkness. Allow your mind to find rest as you let your body and soul be your guide. If you chose a familiar place to sit, notice how the darkness confuses and changes your perspective, turning what is known into the unknown. What do you feel now that you are alone in the dark? Where has darkness cast her long shadow over your life and what might this present darkness have to teach you if you welcomed her as a friend and not an enemy? Without seasons of darkness, who would you be? Would you be as strong, compassionate, humble, and kind without her? If you can, end your time by giving thanks for the gift of darkness. 

Gary Alan Taylor

The Sophia Society & Holy Heretics Podcast