Caught between two worlds

The early morning, before the sun rises, cannot be long enough for me. I savour the quiet, dark hours before the light appears, the timeless time of Kairos, in which I have the focus for creative work that moves slowly, the work that poorly tolerates the clamour of the waking world. Although the weather gives no indication whatsoever that we are moving into winter, the solstice slowly approaches. Whatever happens, the rhythm of light and dark is eternal.

In a book about winter I read about a Scot, living on one of the grim islands off the northern coast of Scotland, who describes winter as a countdown into the dark; ‘you cannot believe that you keep going deeper and deeper into that darkness, and just when you think it cannot get any darker, the light starts to return.’ This brought to mind the closing verses of Psalm 88, a poem written by someone in their final hours, ’like a flood that keeps rising higher, coming at me from all sides, you have taken my friends from me, only the darkness is my companion.’ Winter belongs to all times and equals our apparent death.

I am caught between two worlds. With the last leaves falling, all open matters must come to order, the things that keep me from stepping into the quiet centre of the year in acceptance. In the dark times, life turns me to ash, the fertile ground where new life is breathed into being. I can obstruct that autonomous process by holding on at all costs to my cherished identities, the things that “belong” to me, to which I am attached.

Every year I am invited to practice dying anew. No one can see beyond the mystery of death, only speculate and hope. Hope is my only anchor when everything else fades. And that hope is anchored in a deep trust that life is essentially good; love is the bottom where my hope can hold fast.

This year I feel at peace with the dark for the first time. That does not mean it leaves me indifferent, but rather that I have found the calm within myself not knowing what will come. This helps me to descend into the darkness without fear and to look the mystery in the eye.