When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.
When your vision has gone,
no part of the world can find you.
Time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.
There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.
The dark will be your home
The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.
David Whyte, from Sweet Darkness
It’s been a long and sometimes difficult year, and I’ve often wished I could go and live in a small house alone somewhere, away from the demands and expectations of my days. I have a beautiful life, one that is full of good things and good people. But I am tired.
Over the past weekend I attended a workshop in which we engaged with horses, and then reflected on our interactions as a way of learning more about ourselves. At one point I tried to lead a horse to a patch of shade. When asked why I had chosen that particular place and what it represented for me, I said that it looked nice, comfortable and peaceful. I said that it represented rest. The facilitator smiled and said to me, “You need rest.”
I find it very difficult to rest. Even when I do have the opportunity to be still, my mind races with thoughts of all I should be doing. It’s hard to give myself permission to just be. There is a heaviness in me, a weariness that I am wary of indulging. I fear that if I stop all the thinking and doing, I will sink into that heaviness and be lost.
So I keep moving, and doing and accomplishing. This is not an entirely bad thing; being productive is an antidote to despair and self-pity. Caring for my family brings me joy, and coming to the end of the day knowing that I have completed my tasks and engaged in meaningful work is a blessing.
But I am beginning to think that there is a season for moving into the darkness, for allowing myself to settle into the places in my heart that need to speak of sadness and confusion. It is in reaching into those places that I find some of the wisdom needed to make sense of myself and my world. As David Whyte says, that darkness can provide a vision of a further horizon, one that is not clear in the wide open light and stimulus of daily life. God is in the dark places of my life, as much as He is in the light.
I end with some beautiful words from Rainer Maria Rilke:
So don’t be frightened, dear friend, if a sadness confronts you larger than any you have ever known, casting its shadow over all you do. You must think that something is happening within you, and remember that life has not forgotten you; it holds you in its hand and will not let you fall. Why would you want to exclude from your life any uneasiness, any pain, any depression, since you don’t know what work they are accomplishing within you?
(You can find Sweet Darkness in its entirety on the poetry page.)