Dark Nights of the Soul

I spoke previously of the spiritual journey that grief brought upon me. Some might call it growth or transformation or simply change--I see it as all that, but more. I've come to believe that it's the losses in our life that draw us closer to Spirit or God or whatever else you chose to call the Infinite. As I mentioned, I don't know why certain losses open the door to this journey; perhaps it's becoming a 'certain age,' having enough life wisdom to know that it's time to realize there's 'more.'

At first it starts with wanting God to fix everything, then it quickly turns to the realization that's not going to happen. Then you start trying to figure out 'why' God won't fix it. Then bit by bit, you begin to ask yourself if the reason it's not being 'fixed' is because there's something you're supposed to learn from the situation. From there you're on you're way--well, you are if you choose to tap in and figure out what exactly you're supposed to be learning. What exactly does God want you to 'get' out of this loss?

The answer comes in bits and pieces and takes way too long than we 'instant gratification' humans think it should. It comes in many 'dark nights of the soul' where you don't think you can go on, that life isn't worth living, that you'd rather be dead than have one more day of such terrible pain. But somehow, some way, you manage to get up the next day and if you're lucky, that day is a bit better.

Then comes the dark night that begins to show you the light. This is what happened to me, just recently. Of all the 'reasons' my husband had given me for 'why' we divorced, many were about him, but some were about me. 'You're negative, critical, judgmental,' he would say, and yet, try as I could, I didn't see myself as any of those things. Then suddenly, after an upset, I heard myself talking to him. I heard myself crying, yet telling him he wasn't doing enough for his own growth, to help me, to help 'us' heal. Suddenly I realized that while maybe I didn't mean any of these things to sound critical or judgmental, there was a certain 'tone' in my voice that belied my intention. 'Oh, God,' I thought, 'he's right. He's been right all along, and yet, it was never my intention to be any of those things. I only meant to share my feelings.'

Shortly after this conversation, I received several important 'messages,' which each came to me in different ways. First, when I turned to God in silent meditation, beyond my thoughts I saw a sliver of light through a doorway. I know this light wants to reach me, but my pain makes it difficult. I realized the most important thing right now is healing my heart, and I must turn to the silence and the light again and again for that to happen. Second, I was reading a book about 'emotions' which addressed the very issue of 'sharing feelings.' Not all feelings are meant to be shared with another person; sometimes we must take the deeper, more troublesome feelings to God. For 14 years I have dumped 'feelings' on my husband, and he wasn't capable of dealing with them. Eventually, carrying them, and his own, became to much. This book also suggested that one must learn to speak with compassion, to keep judgment and 'tone' out of one's voice -- the very problem I had earlier recognized in my own. Third, I woke early from a bad dream about my husband and I, a dream that we'd fought at the tax office. I saw my worst fears -- his anger and abandonment and loss of my security. I felt sure I would not sleep again, but I prayed to grant myself sleep and compassion. I also prayed that my counselor would have a cancellation, so I might see her the next day. I slept, I woke, I got a call, and I saw my counselor. The 'Force' was with me.

My counselor says that little by little, as you 'tune in' to God, Spirit, Intuition, the Flow, it becomes easier and easier to go with it instead of fighting it. I believe this is true, and I plan to do my best to stay on this path. I will find the 'tone' of love instead of judgment, not just for him, but for all people. I will seek to grant compassion, not just to others, but to myself. Marianne Williamson's Oprah podcast reminded me today that God's mercy is more infinite than anything we can imagine. I will see a portion of that mercy coming to me, and I will say a prayer of gratitude for Grace and 'dark nights of the soul.'