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“How can I be substantial if I fail to cast a shadow? I must have a dark side if I am to be whole; and in as much as I become conscious of my shadow I also remember that I am a human being like any other.”
~Jung
Though my soul may set in darkness, It will rise in perfect light, I have loved the stars too fondly To be fearful of the night.
~Sarah Williams
Darkness. Something you learn to fear from the time you are old enough to realize. It’s something we seek to escape at all costs these days, the buzzing and flickering of florescents and neons reminding us at all hours in every city that we need not have darkness. Stay out of dark alleys for they are unsafe, seek God lest your soul fall into darkness, evil lurks in the deep dark forest.
I’ve been through some things that make me want lights at night, although I’m doing better. I can tell at night when someone is in the bathroom because the light from the tiny bulb can’t be seen down the hall anymore and I kind of don’t like it. It was more than noticeable when the power went out and not even the little glow of the digital numbers on the clock were there to comfort me. It’s being alone in the dark that makes me more sad than afraid. I think that’s why I couldn’t close my door most of the time either.
I always had a night light as a child but one of my favorite memories, is when we went camping in the mountains, the moonlight and the stars were my lights. I HAD to walk up the the “clubhouse” to the bathrooms at night. Only the beam of a small flashlight to guide my feet I would stumble anyway because I’d be head up staring at the bands of stars and the milky way that you can’t see through the “light pollution” in town. I just loved the dark and the stars.
All this is so odd to me. I wish I could have that “stars in the mountains” feeling again. I don’t dislike the dark, in fact, it can be a friend hiding me when things get tough. Those who know me well know I can’t talk face to face about really emotional things. In the dark, in the intimate darkness I can whisper my thoughts and feelings and fears so much easier, wrapping me in a blanket of security that the light takes away.
I sit and mull over friends of mine who call me “to the dark side”. Not that I mind, but it’s not me, at least not in the same way as with them. I have a darkness. I took one of those online quizzes once that said I was connected to the darkness by depression. That was long ago, but I know what it meant. I could feel the dark inside. Not evil, just empty. Not long ago I re-took it and it changed to Magick. Huh. I didn’t know that was an option in the quiz. How appropriate. I do not fear dark magick. It kind of thrills me, to be honest, but connecting to the darkness in such a way doesn’t make ME dark. I’m really not, and I really don’t want to be. I kind of like the “Cindy-Loo Naufragio” with her evil on the inside but lots of soft and sweet mixed in. I know the dark, I don’t have to be it anymore than I know musicians, and I don’t have to be able to play or sing to get down and dirty and have some fun. The important part is being true to me, to live authentically.
Note:I’m not afraid of the bumps in the night. I’m don’t give second thought to the fact that as I sit writing this my upper arm began to sting and I have scratches welting up while I’m typing. I must have gotten some thing’s attention. It’s happened before, scratches, marks and double circles appearing on my neck in the night (several witnesses to those and they lasted several days).
