alone & alive

“…Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness to learn anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you.” David Whyte

As an act of self-love, I have stepped out of myself and have joined a few courses to help me reconnect and deepen my spiritual beliefs. I was browsing through my Instagram feed and came across some lovely spiritual journaling pages. In the description, I noticed that the poster was offering free admission to one of their courses and I had to look into it. From there, my Soul took over and here I am.

I have always considered being alone as a sign of weakness – I’ve felt, for most of my life, that my worth is defined by my relationship status. If I am single, that means that no one wants me or appreciates me. I have felt more lonely while being married than I ever felt while being single. This is not the way it is supposed to be. Though I have always found solace in having my own time, I have also feared it with an intensity that sometimes scares me.

I often use the metaphor of dark, cold water or darkness and shadows creeping up behind someone to explain depression, but I have yet to explore (in writing) the cathartic nature of darkness, the healing that it offers. There are different types of darkness, definitely – shadows versus the night versus the inky black of depression.

Being alone does not have to be terrifying; as an introvert, I am well aware of the energising nature of spending the day in quiet solitude, but feeling as if no one will ever choose you is where that solitude takes a horrible turn. Being cradled in darkness is often my preferred state – I do my best work, am the most inspired, at night; but when that darkness no longer cradles you but strangles you into silence, that is when it becomes something nearly uncontrollable.
photo: artur rutkowski

My journey inward – and downward – has always been a path through a dark forest. This journey is also a fragmented one; I may stray from the path, get distracted by the flora and fauna around me, but I always find my way back and continue.

The tales I weave have always been a contribution to this journey, and when I find myself unable to write I know that it is a period of trailblazing. I may lose myself in the brush, but a few sweet words can so easily draw me back. I feel the most alive when I am called back and my own gentle and dreamy words flow from my soul. I have entered into a period of reflection, of continuing down that dark path in the forest, inward and downward into my soul.

write

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