…we need to trust the darkness.
(Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way)
Life. Trusting the darkness is a challenge. It’s our natural inclination – movement toward answers, certainty, and solidity. We look for the light. We seek clarity. We want perspective. It seems, much of the time, that this very proclivity is what keeps us from what we most desire.
Creativity. When forced, regulated, or demanded, it somehow slips through our fingers. We find ourselves frustrated, tense, and anxious. We regiment our processes. We strain and push. Little comes forth.
Life: When we clamp down, things tend to dissolve, lose form, and fall apart. All our efforts to “keep things together” result in just the opposite. Holding tight to relationship, maintaining the clamped-down-trying-to-control-everything reality, it is nearly impossible to create new forms of life in its midst, to hope, to have faith.
Creativity: When we abandon ourselves to the unknown, when we let go of control, when we surrender, something of structure evolves, substance comes forth, and creativity flourishes.
Life: When we let go, take deep breaths, and release things (even knowing the risk inherent) new life is created…and not in ways we could ever imagine.
For me, in trusting the darkness, in letting go, in allowing the unknown, relationship actually ended.
And life emerged.
In trusting the darkness, I was re-created. In death: life.
Danielle spoke a few days ago about life – and death. She referenced Lianne’s work on what is Dying to Be Born. And Clarissa Pinkola Estes, the book I’m reading like scripture right now, gave me these words:
When we are untangling this [Life/Death/Life] nature, it would be good for us to sing something like this: What must I give more death to today, in order to generate more life? What do I know should die, but am hesitant to allow to do so? What must die in me in order for me to love? …What should die today? What should live? What life am I afraid to give birth to? If not now, when?
If we sing the song of consciousness till we feel the burn of truth, we throw a burst of fire into the darkness of the psyche so we can see what we’re doing…
In the darkness may be where I can see best – in creativity and in life.
For your reflection:
I’m exhausted tonight as I create and edit this post. Darkness is what I need – sleep – so that life may resume in the morning. I’d love your thoughts, your reflections – on darkness, on creativity, on life…
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{ 16 comments… read them below or add one }
Ronna, I loved these questions. What should die today? My my fears, my desire for everything to be certain, my desire to speed up the process. I need to sleep too. I need to allow myself to sleep more and let go more and trust more. It’s a process and I am allowing it to unfold. Thank you for this great post!
Thank you, Lana…and you’re more than welcome. Plus, though I was exhausted last night and sort-of apologizing for left-off reflection questions, the quote itself had then, didn’t it? Thanks for seeing that – and showing it to me! Ah, rest.
Thank you for this post. I’m also reading Women Who Run the Wolves right now. (I just started it about two hours before I read your post! Weird..) Anyway, I always need a reminder to trust the darkness, and this one came at the exact right time. Thank you!
SUCH a fabulous book…so far. I’m about half-way through and SOAKING it up! Thanks for being here, Betsy!
I think Women Who Run with the Wolves has got to go on my list …
As I wrote on Danielle’s post, I think this is critical, crucial, and terrifying. To let go, to embrace the darkness, to let something we cling to fiercely die … these are all enormously difficult tasks. At least for me. To let something die for something to be born, to welcome the darkness in the trust that light will follow it … these are acts of faith. And, as you know, this is something I struggle with mightily. Thank you for your continued and thoughtful exploration of such vital questions.
You must read it, Lindsey. So, so good. And here’s what I hear/know – you are constantly embracing darkness, constantly letting things be born…which simultaneously means things are dying. Faith. Faith. Faith. I’m grateful for the trails you blaze – in shining, shook foil ways.
ronna as i contemplate the death of one spot in my life i needed these words to spur me on into the darkness knowing that i will see the light more clearly because i have allowed that darkness to surround me….be it with great trepidation! blessings to you as i continue to be blessed by your words here maureen
I’m grateful for your words, your presence, Maureen. Thank you.
“In trusting the darkness, I was re-created. In death: life.” Do you believe in resurrection? That is always the question, isn’t it? It is easy to say that you do until it is time to die… But in holding on to things that we really should release are we really living?
Such good questions and thoughts, Rebecca. Thank you. No easy answers, are they? With every “yes,” there are implicit “no’s” and vice-versa. For me, at least, the call is to acknowledge what I’m holding on to “merely” because I’m afraid to let go…maybe even because I’m terrified of what “life” means and looks like. Again, nothing about this that’s easy!!!
I find it odd that you speak of darkness in actuality not as in the darkness of mind, as I am one who was frightened of the dark for years…now it seems that is my most calm and when the creativity start to stir. It then becomes a matter of dragging myslef up out of bed and going with the flow which often I push away because I am so tired. When I have a little more time tonight, I ‘m coming back to reread your post and let it absorb.
.-= Suzicate´s last blog ..Pinkies From Heaven =-.
Darkness takes many forms, doesn’t it? For me, it’s medium changes depending on my state of mind, my exhaustion, my circumstances. It’s interesting to me, however, that no matter its context, it still has impact; still is worth noting – and still being aware of both its cost and its gift. Thanks for this, Suzi.
It is interesting for me to note that when I am deeply working on a painting, I will often walk away from the easel to sit quietly in the dark. Closing my eyes to pull away from extraneous visual influences always allows me to come back to the canvas with fresh eyes and a stronger ability to go with the next stroke.
.-= Julianne Fuchs-Musgrave´s last blog ..Flying Off =-.
Julianne: Thank you so much for this! I love picturing that process – you closing your eyes and letting the darkness in…intentionally…for the sake of perspective and fresh eyes. Oh, that we might do the same in life.
I’ve gone through many dark periods in my life but I’ve learned that if I’m going through darkness, I need to keep moving in order to find the light.
If I had to be honest, I have to admit that I don’t like the darkness of the night because I am then left alone, with only my thoughts.
.-= Tracy Todd´s last blog ..How do I… =-.
As always, Tracy, your responses call me to more visceral and felt experiences of my own thoughts and theories. Thoughts and theories only go so far…Thank you.