For anyone out there who has laid awake or even woken with the kind of thoughts spoken about by Thomas Moore in his book Dark Nights of the Soul , the following excerpt may prove to be both consoling and enlightening.
Every life is full of garbage – wasted time, failed endeavours, broken relationships, bad decisions – to be offered at that strange alter of this night goddess, the place where three roads meet in an uncanny haunt of ghosts and magic. If you don’t honour this night spirit, what do you do with all this trash? You probably take it literally, associate it with your “self” and feel guilty.
What people today call “losing self esteem” might be nothing more than the highly visible waste material of a life that needs a home and that shouldn’t be attached to the self. When thoughts come to you deep in your dark night – that your life hasn’t amounted to anything, that you’ve wasted a lot of time, or that you aren’t as good as some friend or celebrity, thoughts of regret, bitterness and self loathing – you might consider the necessity of these annoying preoccupations. They don’t literally make you garbage, they merely allow you to see this all important emptiness in your accomplishments.
The fact is we are all Charlie Chaplin tramps failing to fully realise our expectations. One of the most telling myths for my own life, a truth my family likes to remind me of, is Mr Magoo, a man disastrously oblivious to the world around him. He climbs unknowingly into a bus, with weak eyes he confuses a mannequin for a friend. and constantly forgets what he was just about to do. I know him well. Thoughts like these which you might well entertain late at night help you rediscover your humanity and give you the greatest blessing of humility. Where but in darkness could you find this insight?
The truth is failures and successes always fade away. I am not meaning to imply that trying and succeeding and manifesting are not good things or even things to aspire towards by posting this. But I do hope that if you find yourself at times buried knee deep in a field of broken dreams you treat yourself kindly in the midst of the wreckage you find there.