Faith, curiosity, experiences, determination, silence, gratitude, other beings, time … help me face the dark rather than turn away from it. It is okay to sit with darkness and allow our senses to play a good part of the next process of our journey which might be in various stages such as butterfly life span and my own lifespan. There are times when it is important to be quiet and be reflective. In this space, one can hear the truth, and we can ask questions which gear us towards wise actions such as whether to “fly, walk, dance, skip, swim …” figuratively or metaphorically. Maya Angelou said, “All great achievements require time.” Time could involve a spectrum of experiences. Anaïs Nin said “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom” I cannot rush through my sickness; I have allowed my body to heal but find a balance in the process and in the process, I need to be open. One thing I know is my Divine is with me in darkness, in light and in between. The psalmist in psalm 139 expressed it well. Not to be afraid of the darkness but embrace it and learn as much as I ca from it. – Stop, Look and Go.
There are different kinds of darkness for me . . .
the comfort of darkness under the covers,
cozy, comforting,
sensual and warm,
the kind that I want to sink into its pleasure,
stretch out my animal body,
then curl up like a child
and let sleep overtake me.
A darkness that feels safe from anything real or imaginary
that might want to harm me.
And then there is the other sort,
which is quite the opposite . . .
like cold metal in my mouth,
uncaring,
bringing with it heart-pounding terror,
the kind that startles me awake,
drenched in a shivering sweat,
eyes wide open,
ready to panic.
I don’t experience this side of darkness as often as I used to,
but when I do
it consumes my whole being.
I’ve tried to run from it . . .
escape into a book,
go on a frantic cleaning spree
or distract myself in some other compelling way,
which usually exhausts me,
but it always comes back . . .
always.
Now
I’m so tired of all the running
that I rarely resist it anymore
and let it wash over me,
do what it will to me,
and when I feel that I can’t move a finger to protest,
I sit down with it.
The darkness comes in a few ways . . .
one,
when I feel I’ve done something I am ashamed of
and two,
when I let worries about the future come in.
The truth is
that I can only do what I can do . . .
walk through it and move on.
Apologize if there is something to apologize about,
commit to making some changes,
remind myself
that I am doing my very best,
and stop beating myself up.
Learning to be grateful and present to my Life
has helped me enormously . . .
helped me to accept myself
with all my flaws and foibles.
They have actually become good teachers
once I calm down and sit with them
without fear. ♥
Yes: “They have actually become good teachers
once I calm down and sit with them
without fear.” I feel that darkness (if I can personify it for a moment) uses menace and grandeur to make itself look bigger than it is.
When that damn monkey who lives in the same room with addiction, begins the incessant chatter, I have stopped trying to shoot him out of the trees, but invite him into my lap. It has helped immensely, dear Sparrow.
Hmm. Fear of the unknown vs fear of truths I may not want to know.
That’s a tough one.
I think usually I want to know the truth so that I can prepare for the future.
So I guess I choose to face the dark so that I can make the most of my life.
My Dad had Alzheimer’s and sometimes I get concerned about my memory.
In the past I thought I don’t want to know if I might get Alzheimer’s.
I don’t even like typing in the word.
But there are now drugs that can slow the progression if it is caught in the early stages.
I may talk to my general practitioner about this. I really may be fine.
And I do tend to worry about things that most people wouldn’t worry about.
But I think I’d like to look into this and know.
Sending love and peace to all on this Saturday.
I don’t turn away from the dark. Without darkness, we can’t appreciate light. Without darkness, no stars shining, no owl hooting, no coyote pack singing its laughing songs in the big nearby park. Riding my bike or walking in the dark is its own kind of joy–few people driving, cool (cold, now) night air, just me with my movement and exertion. This time of year the dark gives me the glowing contrast of my neighbors’ Christmas lights, from a simple strand of one color to the extravaganzas in a few nearby yards.
Darkness represents rest and restoration of energy. The flowers and trees we love need winter to replenish what they used up growing in spring and summer. For some species, their seeds won’t germinate unless they get cold. Humans need rest too. Some of the selections I found in my Winter Solstice writings this year and in previous years speak directly to that. This year’s piece has the others linked at the bottom https://biketoworkbarb.blogspot.com/2025/12/winter-solstice-2025.html.
For metaphorical darkness, which is likely what the question is really asking, I remember that the only way out is through. I’ve survived everything that has happened to me so far and it has all made me who I am. The sun comes up every single morning no matter what happened in the night, or the day before.
Barb, this resonates: “Darkness represents rest and restoration of energy. The flowers and trees we love need winter to replenish what they used up growing in spring and summer. For some species, their seeds won’t germinate unless they get cold. Humans need rest too.” I need to remind myself that rest and slowness are healthy.
I love this poem by Joyce Rupp,
dear Barb . . .
thank you for posting it. ♥
“”Winter’s Cloak”
Joyce Rupp
This year I do not want
the dark to leave me.
I need its wrap
of silent stillness,
its cloak
of long lasting embrace.
Too much light
has pulled me away
from the chamber
of gestation.”
When darkness comes or any minds/thoughts come I turn to the universe method of letting go 24/7. thank goodness for the universe! Thank you so much for being the light ! 💡
I do my best to be in whatever moment I’m in.
The darkness is always there. As long as I do the things that I need to do to encourage the light in my life, as a counterbalance, I know that the darkness will not overwhelm me.
The dark contains life and alchemy. It contains transformative processes. If I bypass the darkness, I bypass the opportunity to experience transformation.
I love this quote from the book “Is a River Alive?” by Robert Mcfarlane, in which naturalist, educator, and activist Yuvan Aves describes his affinity with the millipede, a dweller of darkness:
“The millipede is a remaster of meaning and matter … it turns the s#$t of life into something valuable; takes it in, absorbs its harm, transforms it. Turns death into life, waste into compost, endings into beginnings. It’s a detritivore: part of an under-appreciated group of species who do this vital, ethical work. … Likewise, cockroaches, maggots, dung beetles, all of this much-despised class of cleaner-uppers. … I use the millipede [as a guide] when there’s suffering or adversity which must be converted into something positive.”
I ask myself: How can this darkness transform me? What are the opportunities in this particular darkness?
Love this, Drea. I wrote my response before reading yours; we struck similar themes.
Thank you for the gift of the word “detritivore” and this quotation. New addition to my vocabulary and a wonderful image from nature. We’ve been watching the nature documentary “Tiny World” and dung beetles and other little critters get their time on stage.
Thanks Drea…a reminder that I needed today. It takes me back to a night in 1995 when every aspect of my personal life had fallen apart and a friend had kindly let me stay in an apartment she owned. I had been given a medication by the doctor that was causing me to have hallucinations and my sanity was hanging in the balance. I couldn’t sleep. I knew I was hallucinating but that didn’t make it less scary and so to combat it, I began journaling and wrote a poem which speaks to the role transformation plays in our lives. Your questions “…How can this darkness transform me? What are the opportunities in this particular darkness?” speak of your willingness and remind me of a question I often ask myself when I am faced with difficulty. I ask: “What can I learn from this situation?” Your post reminded me of that question. I’ve shared the poem that got me through that night on this site before but this morning, I want to share it with you and thank you for introducing me to the “millipede.” I so appreciate your taking time to type that information. Yes, sometimes we just have to do our best to be cleaner-uppers. God bless the millepede.
Wings of Willingness by Carol Ann Conner (1995)
(“You too can fly. But that cocoon must go!” Anonymous)
The Butterfly awakens inside the cocoon – TRAPPED.
Her wings embedded in her sides – CHAINED.
Her mind is reeling – AFRAID.
Every circumstance says she can’t move.
She bargains; she pleads. But at last, she lets go.
The power of surrender surges through her.
Little by little, the darkness begins to fade into light.
She’s learning to trust.
At last, she’s embracing true freedom.
Her prison begins to crumble.
Her wings begin to spread.
SHE FLIES!
Some of us build cocoons from the inside out,
And the only way to shed them is to let go.
No amount of digging, scratching, or pushing can remove them.
Only letting God send those who can comfort and guide,
Only letting God peel off one layer at a time will constitute real change.
Transformation is God’s/Life’s business. Willingness is mine.
When I can truly let God be God,
My wings will spread and I will discover that
I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN ABLE TO FLY!
“I do not understand the mystery of grace — only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.” — Anne Lamott
Carol Ann, this is so true: “Some of us build cocoons from the inside out,
And the only way to shed them is to let go.
No amount of digging, scratching, or pushing can remove them.” Thank you for sharing your poem. I am so glad that the book excerpt I shared also hit home. It’s a really good book, I recommend it.
My faith helps me walk forward, and knowing Creator provides the Wisdom (Sophia) for guidance. Restful weekend thoughts and Blesdings to each of you 🎄❄️☮️
It’s been a challenging morning for me physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually and I’m doing my best not to turn away from it. When I read Richard Rohr’s meditation this morning, this quote stood out to me. Saint Irenaeus said, “The glory of God is the human person fully alive.” And so my prayer this morning is for the wisdom to be a candle in every situation that crosses my path this day and to do my best to place my unsettled mind into my willing heart. From head to heart, I keep hearing the words, “Be kind. Be fully present. Be the peace you seek.”
I have learned to face the dark after years of pretending nothing is wrong. Facing it isn’t easy, but the dark is part of the process, and in personal situations, usually offers a lesson, an opportunity for growth. Now I face it with courage and a knowing that I will get through whatever it is.
When the “darkness” is personal, I ask myself, in a number of ways, “What if I do and what if I don’t?”. Often, I am shown where my power lies.
When “darkness” is on a macro level, the world condition, our misguided leadership, etc., I try really hard to stay informed, do what I can locally to lift the darkness in our community. And sometimes, so I can keep showing up, I turn away from the darkness for periods of time and focus on just the light. ♥️
Faith in God, the universe, the connection they both have in my very being. Knowing that walking through my darkness can light the path for my children and others.
I’m low vision, and I am seeing how blessed I am that God gives me this fair amount of it. Thinking of my totally blind friends inspires me to walk into the darkness rather than find ways to avoid it. I mean, sometimes I can find a “better” route, and other times, there are routes that I just have to walk in. Have a wonderful weekend, everyone! 🕯
My Ngoc, it’s just like for me with Josh both concerning vision issues and mental health. He’s blind and his mental health struggles make mine look like a walk in the park.
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Faith, curiosity, experiences, determination, silence, gratitude, other beings, time … help me face the dark rather than turn away from it. It is okay to sit with darkness and allow our senses to play a good part of the next process of our journey which might be in various stages such as butterfly life span and my own lifespan. There are times when it is important to be quiet and be reflective. In this space, one can hear the truth, and we can ask questions which gear us towards wise actions such as whether to “fly, walk, dance, skip, swim …” figuratively or metaphorically. Maya Angelou said, “All great achievements require time.” Time could involve a spectrum of experiences. Anaïs Nin said “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom” I cannot rush through my sickness; I have allowed my body to heal but find a balance in the process and in the process, I need to be open. One thing I know is my Divine is with me in darkness, in light and in between. The psalmist in psalm 139 expressed it well. Not to be afraid of the darkness but embrace it and learn as much as I ca from it. – Stop, Look and Go.
There are different kinds of darkness for me . . .
the comfort of darkness under the covers,
cozy, comforting,
sensual and warm,
the kind that I want to sink into its pleasure,
stretch out my animal body,
then curl up like a child
and let sleep overtake me.
A darkness that feels safe from anything real or imaginary
that might want to harm me.
And then there is the other sort,
which is quite the opposite . . .
like cold metal in my mouth,
uncaring,
bringing with it heart-pounding terror,
the kind that startles me awake,
drenched in a shivering sweat,
eyes wide open,
ready to panic.
I don’t experience this side of darkness as often as I used to,
but when I do
it consumes my whole being.
I’ve tried to run from it . . .
escape into a book,
go on a frantic cleaning spree
or distract myself in some other compelling way,
which usually exhausts me,
but it always comes back . . .
always.
Now
I’m so tired of all the running
that I rarely resist it anymore
and let it wash over me,
do what it will to me,
and when I feel that I can’t move a finger to protest,
I sit down with it.
The darkness comes in a few ways . . .
one,
when I feel I’ve done something I am ashamed of
and two,
when I let worries about the future come in.
The truth is
that I can only do what I can do . . .
walk through it and move on.
Apologize if there is something to apologize about,
commit to making some changes,
remind myself
that I am doing my very best,
and stop beating myself up.
Learning to be grateful and present to my Life
has helped me enormously . . .
helped me to accept myself
with all my flaws and foibles.
They have actually become good teachers
once I calm down and sit with them
without fear. ♥
Yes: “They have actually become good teachers
once I calm down and sit with them
without fear.” I feel that darkness (if I can personify it for a moment) uses menace and grandeur to make itself look bigger than it is.
I completely agree,
dear Drea . . .
it’s like the wizard behind his curtain! ♥
When that damn monkey who lives in the same room with addiction, begins the incessant chatter, I have stopped trying to shoot him out of the trees, but invite him into my lap. It has helped immensely, dear Sparrow.
I think,
dear Joseph,
that the monkey
can be the darkness . . .
the fear.
It helps me too.
Sparrow, you break down the different types of darkness very well. The first one sounds ideal.
🙂
Hmm. Fear of the unknown vs fear of truths I may not want to know.
That’s a tough one.
I think usually I want to know the truth so that I can prepare for the future.
So I guess I choose to face the dark so that I can make the most of my life.
My Dad had Alzheimer’s and sometimes I get concerned about my memory.
In the past I thought I don’t want to know if I might get Alzheimer’s.
I don’t even like typing in the word.
But there are now drugs that can slow the progression if it is caught in the early stages.
I may talk to my general practitioner about this. I really may be fine.
And I do tend to worry about things that most people wouldn’t worry about.
But I think I’d like to look into this and know.
Sending love and peace to all on this Saturday.
Freedom in courage, Mary.♥️
Yes, thank you, Mary. Freedom in courage.
”Fear of the unknown vs fear of truths I may not want to know.
That’s a tough one.”
Tough ones for me as well,
dear Mary.
And yes,
Alzheimer’s too,
comes to mind.
You are not alone. ♥
Thank you, dear Sparrow. ♥️
I don’t turn away from the dark. Without darkness, we can’t appreciate light. Without darkness, no stars shining, no owl hooting, no coyote pack singing its laughing songs in the big nearby park. Riding my bike or walking in the dark is its own kind of joy–few people driving, cool (cold, now) night air, just me with my movement and exertion. This time of year the dark gives me the glowing contrast of my neighbors’ Christmas lights, from a simple strand of one color to the extravaganzas in a few nearby yards.
Darkness represents rest and restoration of energy. The flowers and trees we love need winter to replenish what they used up growing in spring and summer. For some species, their seeds won’t germinate unless they get cold. Humans need rest too. Some of the selections I found in my Winter Solstice writings this year and in previous years speak directly to that. This year’s piece has the others linked at the bottom https://biketoworkbarb.blogspot.com/2025/12/winter-solstice-2025.html.
For metaphorical darkness, which is likely what the question is really asking, I remember that the only way out is through. I’ve survived everything that has happened to me so far and it has all made me who I am. The sun comes up every single morning no matter what happened in the night, or the day before.
Barb, this resonates: “Darkness represents rest and restoration of energy. The flowers and trees we love need winter to replenish what they used up growing in spring and summer. For some species, their seeds won’t germinate unless they get cold. Humans need rest too.” I need to remind myself that rest and slowness are healthy.
I love this poem by Joyce Rupp,
dear Barb . . .
thank you for posting it. ♥
“”Winter’s Cloak”
Joyce Rupp
This year I do not want
the dark to leave me.
I need its wrap
of silent stillness,
its cloak
of long lasting embrace.
Too much light
has pulled me away
from the chamber
of gestation.”
I only post a short excerpt from each poem; if you follow the link, you get the whole thing. https://openspacemindfulness.com/winters-cloak/
When darkness comes or any minds/thoughts come I turn to the universe method of letting go 24/7. thank goodness for the universe! Thank you so much for being the light ! 💡
I do my best to be in whatever moment I’m in.
The darkness is always there. As long as I do the things that I need to do to encourage the light in my life, as a counterbalance, I know that the darkness will not overwhelm me.
‘Balance’
keeps coming up in our reflections,
dear Charlie. ♥
The dark contains life and alchemy. It contains transformative processes. If I bypass the darkness, I bypass the opportunity to experience transformation.
I love this quote from the book “Is a River Alive?” by Robert Mcfarlane, in which naturalist, educator, and activist Yuvan Aves describes his affinity with the millipede, a dweller of darkness:
“The millipede is a remaster of meaning and matter … it turns the s#$t of life into something valuable; takes it in, absorbs its harm, transforms it. Turns death into life, waste into compost, endings into beginnings. It’s a detritivore: part of an under-appreciated group of species who do this vital, ethical work. … Likewise, cockroaches, maggots, dung beetles, all of this much-despised class of cleaner-uppers. … I use the millipede [as a guide] when there’s suffering or adversity which must be converted into something positive.”
I ask myself: How can this darkness transform me? What are the opportunities in this particular darkness?
🙂
Love this, Drea. I wrote my response before reading yours; we struck similar themes.
Thank you for the gift of the word “detritivore” and this quotation. New addition to my vocabulary and a wonderful image from nature. We’ve been watching the nature documentary “Tiny World” and dung beetles and other little critters get their time on stage.
Barb, we watched the episode about the Sonoran Desert the other day. It was so good! Thank you for the recommendation.
Thanks Drea…a reminder that I needed today. It takes me back to a night in 1995 when every aspect of my personal life had fallen apart and a friend had kindly let me stay in an apartment she owned. I had been given a medication by the doctor that was causing me to have hallucinations and my sanity was hanging in the balance. I couldn’t sleep. I knew I was hallucinating but that didn’t make it less scary and so to combat it, I began journaling and wrote a poem which speaks to the role transformation plays in our lives. Your questions “…How can this darkness transform me? What are the opportunities in this particular darkness?” speak of your willingness and remind me of a question I often ask myself when I am faced with difficulty. I ask: “What can I learn from this situation?” Your post reminded me of that question. I’ve shared the poem that got me through that night on this site before but this morning, I want to share it with you and thank you for introducing me to the “millipede.” I so appreciate your taking time to type that information. Yes, sometimes we just have to do our best to be cleaner-uppers. God bless the millepede.
Wings of Willingness by Carol Ann Conner (1995)
(“You too can fly. But that cocoon must go!” Anonymous)
The Butterfly awakens inside the cocoon – TRAPPED.
Her wings embedded in her sides – CHAINED.
Her mind is reeling – AFRAID.
Every circumstance says she can’t move.
She bargains; she pleads. But at last, she lets go.
The power of surrender surges through her.
Little by little, the darkness begins to fade into light.
She’s learning to trust.
At last, she’s embracing true freedom.
Her prison begins to crumble.
Her wings begin to spread.
SHE FLIES!
Some of us build cocoons from the inside out,
And the only way to shed them is to let go.
No amount of digging, scratching, or pushing can remove them.
Only letting God send those who can comfort and guide,
Only letting God peel off one layer at a time will constitute real change.
Transformation is God’s/Life’s business. Willingness is mine.
When I can truly let God be God,
My wings will spread and I will discover that
I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN ABLE TO FLY!
“I do not understand the mystery of grace — only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.” — Anne Lamott
Carol Ann, this is so true: “Some of us build cocoons from the inside out,
And the only way to shed them is to let go.
No amount of digging, scratching, or pushing can remove them.” Thank you for sharing your poem. I am so glad that the book excerpt I shared also hit home. It’s a really good book, I recommend it.
”When I can truly let God be God,
My wings will spread and I will discover that
I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN ABLE TO FLY!”
Beautiful,
dear Carol Ann. ♥
My faith helps me walk forward, and knowing Creator provides the Wisdom (Sophia) for guidance. Restful weekend thoughts and Blesdings to each of you 🎄❄️☮️
It’s been a challenging morning for me physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually and I’m doing my best not to turn away from it. When I read Richard Rohr’s meditation this morning, this quote stood out to me. Saint Irenaeus said, “The glory of God is the human person fully alive.” And so my prayer this morning is for the wisdom to be a candle in every situation that crosses my path this day and to do my best to place my unsettled mind into my willing heart. From head to heart, I keep hearing the words, “Be kind. Be fully present. Be the peace you seek.”
Thank you, Carol Ann, for this. “Be kind. Be fully present. Be the peace you seek.”
Sending you a big virtual hug and positive energy your way 🙂 🤗
Thank you for expressing this. I can relate. I feel a tenseness and am not sure why. I know the winter grey does factor in for me.
I hear you, Carol Ann.
Carol Ann, May you know you don’t walk alone…others walk alongside you. 🫂☮️
cell phone flashlights 😂
Enjoy the weekend everyone:)
Thanks for the chuckle, Michele.
Thanks for spiritual levity! ☺️
Michele, I love your simplicity and sense of humor.
Yes, Michele, a sense of humor does help!
I have learned to face the dark after years of pretending nothing is wrong. Facing it isn’t easy, but the dark is part of the process, and in personal situations, usually offers a lesson, an opportunity for growth. Now I face it with courage and a knowing that I will get through whatever it is.
You are strong in your commitment to Life,
dear SunnyPatti . . . ♥
🤍
When the “darkness” is personal, I ask myself, in a number of ways, “What if I do and what if I don’t?”. Often, I am shown where my power lies.
When “darkness” is on a macro level, the world condition, our misguided leadership, etc., I try really hard to stay informed, do what I can locally to lift the darkness in our community. And sometimes, so I can keep showing up, I turn away from the darkness for periods of time and focus on just the light. ♥️
Faith in God, the universe, the connection they both have in my very being. Knowing that walking through my darkness can light the path for my children and others.
Deann, as a Christian myself along with my faith strengthening, I’m totally with you.
I’m low vision, and I am seeing how blessed I am that God gives me this fair amount of it. Thinking of my totally blind friends inspires me to walk into the darkness rather than find ways to avoid it. I mean, sometimes I can find a “better” route, and other times, there are routes that I just have to walk in. Have a wonderful weekend, everyone! 🕯
My Ngoc, it’s just like for me with Josh both concerning vision issues and mental health. He’s blind and his mental health struggles make mine look like a walk in the park.
Knowing light needs dark to shine through. Peace, Love & Light.
“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in”
Great minds,
dear Joseph . . . ♥