It’s hard to write about the dark times when I wake up and show gratitude for the strength I’ve gained from another descent into my own underworld. I start each day thanking God for those who support me and those who don’t. I thank Him most for the unknowns. The inexplicable shifting of relationships toward and away from love and pain. Tangled paths like playing Snakes and Ladders with the lights out. There’s a rainbow thrill in finding pieces of myself tucked away in another human and there’s a black terror in discovering I don’t even know where I am.
Approaching that black terror is where vision improves and the darkness losses its power. But when I get there, I can’t see anything. The absence of light is so intense that my vision atrophies. My bravery runs dry and I fly to safety. But I can’t escape that kind of black completely. A fragment holds on and crawls inside me. Now it’s mine and I’ve got it on my turf. Do I fight it? Accept it? Integrate it? Give in to it? In grappling with the black I learn from it. I don’t win every match, but I get stronger and braver each time. I’ve gotten so stupidly brave that I’ve gone back into that black terror for more opponents. Whenever I want to roll, more often when I don’t, I’ve always got a nasty troll warmed up, stretched, and ready to kick my ass.
I got my heart broken. The lights were out and I thought I was climbing a ladder into a sunlit room full of love. It turned into a snake and I dropped into its bowels. My vision hasn’t fully returned, I can only understand it in metaphors and ancient images. What I do know is that I’m far from giving in. My heart knows how to heal so well that it hardly needs more than breathing to strengthen itself and prepare for the next adventure. My heart knows God’s love better than my brain can conceive of it.
Some games you have to play with the lights out.
Have a God blessed day filled with love,
Jason