What is it about the dark emotions that repel me? Why do I resist and deny them, even hide myself away when I’m in them? Perhaps it’s simply because they’re uncomfortable, but I know it also has something to do with my never wanting to show weakness—to be anything less than my version of “good.”
But part of living has to do with sorrow; with pain. Our hearts are meant to feel everything this world has to offer. Trying to shut out the difficulties is not only futile, it denies a significant part of the reason we live.
In the David Whyte tape I’ve been listening to, he makes the point that the universe is half dying and half living at any given time, and that’s what makes it a vital system. He says, “… if you choose only the growing side of it you’ll be doomed to ignoring half of existence… a real identity has something to do with embracing the fading, dying, grief-filled sides of yourself.”
I had what I call a ragged day yesterday. It was one of those days that had me questioning my worth; my reason to be. Maybe these kinds of days are our growing pains, I don’t know. Because they certainly seem to be fertile ground, whether they’re comfortable or not.
It is interesting to me that, not long ago, I wrote a post about being in a state of grace (see previous post A State of Grace). And, here I am, in the same house, on the same land, in the same body, but my experience yesterday was the polar opposite of that gracious morning. The other side of grace. I don’t think we get to have one without the other.
Whyte takes up a Rilke poem, The Man Watching, in which Rilke suggests that “… if only we let ourselves be dominated as things do by some immense storm, we would become strong too…” He says, “Winning does not tempt that man. This is how he grows: by being defeated by constantly greater beings.”
And this is really the truth of it, isn’t it? Isn’t this the natural order of things? A grain of sand becoming the pearl, carbon under pressure producing diamonds, iron pounded in the forge to make it stronger? Our wounding giving us the choice to grow? I’ve said it before: it seems to be a universal pattern and I don’t think that’s so because life is cruel. We learn through joy, too. We certainly learn through love. Life seems to demand that we experience the whole of it if we are to grow. And, as hard as that can be sometimes, it is a stunningly perfect system.
Native Americans have long honored and celebrated the darkness—the void, the unknown—as a place for seeking and finding answers. They see it as the home of all that is not yet in form and, as such, the birthing place for all creativity. In fact they believe the darkness holds all the energy of the creative source. And when you think about it, incubation, germination, take place in the dark—of the womb, the nest, the earth, the recesses of the mind.
Whyte offers Adrienne Rich’s poem, Integrity, to consider: “Anger and tenderness: my selves. And now I can believe they breathe in me as angels, not as polarities.”
Indeed, the dark and the light, grace and fear, belief and doubt, joy and sorrow, my selves, my angels.
May I be continually willing to be defeated by greater and greater beings, understanding it as a choice of strength, not weakness. May I offer myself the grace, the right, the love, the compassion, to be wholly and simply human.
Love to you all,
Jeane
A good reflection for the season-Lent. New Mexico encourages us to enter that season.
Thank you, Bill and Margaret. A very good perspective on this piece and a wonderful reminder. Safe journey home.
Grace is a quilt of many emotions I reckon:) In it’s embrace I cannot fall “out” of IT – grace…I appreciate your ability to embrace it simultaneously remembering a time you imagined the lack of it. As I see it, Universal energy speaks through these units of electricity we inhabit…perhaps sometimes we are feeling the ancestors in our physical genes or our souls memories…what ever names we feel comfortable with at the time. For me our sensitivities are the tools we use as we allow the universe to speak to us. I can choose to observe the feelings, from a arms length realizing they are possibly either distant ancestors or earlier patterns in my life programming, reminding me to be with them in honor. They needn’t set off a former pattern of doubt but be an opportunity for me to bless those human aspects that are gifts of being in my physical form, and transmute the energy to rich creative energy – the compost of life….allowing the actual emotions to move through my experience as a welcome breeze of awakening. In my mind, you are doing this spring time cleaning, renewing your store of transmuted energy for the new seasons flourish of activity, no matter what that is.
*an arms length…
Thank you, Grace. Yes, I feel much incubation happening right now. I am in a deepened place, rich with inspiration. I’m “seeing” glimmers of paintings wanting to be born. Am feeling my human existence in deeply meaningful ways. I’m very grateful.
I just blogged about though not as eloquently as you –important to feel deeply. Grace and fear as angels residing within. I will carry this with me. Thank you.
Thank you, Brenda. So glad this had something to offer that you can carry with you. It’s why I write the blog.
As a wise friend (who also lives in Truchas said) sometimes up it goes, sometimes down it goes.
A perfect balance when we embrace both.
Your words are so familiar…i walk the same path. Even though we live so far apart and barely know each other, it is a comfort to know someone out there thinks those deep thought and asks those profound questions .
What D.W. tape are you listening to? And yes, i think What to do when waking, by him, would be a great investment. It is quite recent, 2010, I think
Thanks for your words, Jeane
I’m afraid it’s a very old tape (not even a CD) that lost its case long ago and all labels have been worn away so I don’t know what I’m listening to. A friend loaned it to me. I tried googling some of the poems he’s talking about but I haven’t found it. I’m ordering What to do when waking right now. Nice to connect with you. Thank you.