Resurrecting From Life’s Darkest Hours

“My bones knock together at the pale joints, trying for foothold, fingerhold, mindhold,” wrote Mary Oliver in “Crossing the Swamp”, a visceral poem about finding opportunity to thrive from the bog of life’s dark challenges. If we live long enough, most of us experience a rising from the ashes after burning in the fires of loss, failure or trauma, but sometimes even the most sure-footed and resilient individuals can unexpectedly slip into a deep chasm of futility or questioning.

Dark nights of the soul can follow great periods of growth and clarity, descending upon even the strongest of psyches, rattling the bones with intensity. The black wave can come softly at first, simply inviting us to take inventory or retreat into contemplation. Other times, it sucks out our life force and swallows us whole upon impact.

Unlike other varieties of depression or contraction, the soul’s dark night submerges us until we surrender to metamorphosis. The gestation of a new self can be difficult, and it is easy to forget that the darkness in which we find ourselves is a nourishing womb. We just need to allow ourselves to experience the process. 

Despite the internal urge to disengage from the world and curl into a fetal ball, finding support from spiritual mentors, trusted friends or family members is vital. Expressing our vulnerability can be the most frightening yet most sacred of acts that can light the way for a spirit that feels broken when it is actually breaking open. 

Oliver compared herself to a “poor dry stick” in the great swamp, a bough that “after all these years, could take root, sprout, branch out, bud—make of its life a breathing palace of leaves.” We, too, can be reborn with a greater capacity to give and to receive—to reach into a heaven of possibility because our roots survived an unprecedented storm.

Marlaina Donato is an author, painter and composer. Connect at BluefireStudio.art.

Original article published at Natural Awakenings National