Dark Days

 

In this month before the Winter Solstice, we sink deeper and deeper into the dark. For some this darkness feels empty, or full of grief and despair. We say, "these are dark times," when we listen too much to the voices of the so-called "news." Or perhaps we define ourselves as "depressed." If we are women, we know this darkness well, because we carry an ancient wound that bleeds every month.

If we are men, we also carry a deep atavistic wound, but we too often try to hide it. It is the grief we carry as men, for all the pain we have caused to those we conquered or colonized, to the earth, and to women. Men try to hide our deep secret sadness behind the armor of masculinity, or mastery, or masks of Ascension and enlightenment. And "nonduality" makes a very good mask, for a little while. But if we are true men, we have the courage to descend into our wound and forgive - forgive others through forgiving ourselves. Not to change our gender or soften our backbone, but to confess our woundedness.

Whoever we are, let us not define the night in a way that short-changes its depth, its beauty, its fecundity. This is the hour to re-discover the holiness of the dark.

Image: Toshiyuki Enoki