My mother has tried to silence me, to get me to turn myself away from the self that is really myself and become another self, express another way, a way which will not threaten her nor awake all of her defences and possibly ask her to confront her own pain that she does battle with nightly but won’t admit in company. “We have all suffered”, she keeps saying. Did I say we had not, I was talking of how I felt and was then told everyone feels differently, thanks for that, really validating, Mum. Thanks for meeting me? I really felt you got it? NOT!
“Don’t you think its time you got over it” I’ll be happy just to get through it but what is the it and where does it live and does it ever go away because the past is still present it isn’t even past and sometimes it rears its head out from within the deep basement in order to be revisited and re felt again only to recede again like the tide.
Wave upon wave has passed and I have been washed up feeling often great liberation, relief, release and peace, at other times really deep lethargy and depression and futility. A hopeless feeling of no point and no possibility of freedom ever. But not tonight.
I named this blog Emerging from the Dark Night as I feel that light always emerges out of the dark times. I can be taken down into the pit and its a terrible nightmare for one day or a few but the next day is light and all that pain has disappeared. Where did it go? I don’t know. I only know all is an oscillation and I here am attempting to walk the tightrope and sense where to place my feet to achieve optimum balance for a time.
Tonight as I enjoy the dark simmering silence of the approach to midnight everything is singing. I have known the dark for many years. At times it feels as if the entire journey was dark, from the very start. Saturn Moon is a dark Moon and its a new balsamic moon, there is no light, and yet in the dark there is a dark light too not only darkness.
Stream of consciousness seems a very common thing at night when the unconscious is opening to me peeling back the layer of consciousness from within its naked sleep and sending up a flow of words from an underground spring that disappears in daytlme.
Silence I know you so well. Sometimes a great comfort, often a great revealler of truths that could not come when we are caught up in a field of noise. Turned back on myself by being turned inside out and silenced I am aware in ways I could not be before. Does it make any sense? Who cares? Its just a stream of consciousness flow as I wait for the bed to warm and go to draw about me the blankets of sleep of dreaming, remembering and forgetting the day, the night, all the life before.