For those of us in the Northern Hemisphere the Winter Solstice — the longest day of the year — is on Thursday, December 21st. This moment, this turning point from autumn to winter, offers us an opportunity to go inward and to sit with the darkness within us.
To me, darkness exists on a spectrum. On one end, it can be cozy and soft, like a long evening nap. On the other end, it can represent something dangerous or unknown. It’s the monster in the closet. It’s the thing we sweep under the rug. It’s he-who-must-not-be-named. It’s our past, current, or future traumas. But I think in order for us to know the depths of ourselves it can be valuable and healing when we examine and hold space for both ends of the darkness spectrum.
I recently went on a quest to find poems on navigating the dark. Here are three gems I’d like to share with you.
Excerpt from “solstice love letter to darkness” by adrienne maree brown
darkness
everyone lies about you, painting your face on tragedy
in the folds of the dark i find room for my dreams
i learn to swallow light, i forget to be separate
“To Know the Dark,” by Wendell Berry
To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.
Excerpt from “Sweet Darkness” by David Whyte
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.
On this Winter Solstice, I invite you to “go dark.” Sit or lie down in a dark room at night and notice the sights, sounds, and sensations around you and within you. Or, journal or draw on the aspects of darkness that you find comforting and/or disconcerting.
Here are some additional prompts to consider as you go on your darkness journey:
What is darkness and what does it represent for me?
How can I come to terms with my own darkness?
What is something that I’ve learned about navigating the dark/darkness?
Wishing you ease on this dark night.