As the darkness seems to take over as we march towards Solstice, I for the last five years go on Silent Meditation retreat– with a group of my dearest friends. When I tell people that I’m doing this, their response, EVERY TIME is how fun I’d love to do that– and secretly I scream inside. Fun, there is no fun, it’s a soul searching gut wrenching deep dive into the shadow of yourself– Like walking, because you want to, into a personal hell that you pack for and bring snacks too. I do crave this week every year, my body has begun to need the silence, the quiet, the stillness, in fact as soon as we drive in, I’m buttoned up– I have a shroud of stillness that envelopes me. See the thing is I’m a talker, like I could talk to you all day about everything– I’m a teacher so I talk a lot, I’m a researcher so I like to learn, but on this week where the snow generally falls and the lake is still and the night is long– I become quiet to welcome the light.
I can’t imagine not going dark- not looking at myself, not clearing out space for the light that gets squashed by so many words. I mean really why do I talk so much anyway– what the fuck do I have to impart on anyone. Funny thing, until I was maybe 40 I was deathly afraid of the dark, like could not walk anywhere if there was not light– I was bone chillingly scared of the dark– slept with a light on most of my adult life. But these last five years have had me long for it– to not be afraid but to have made friends with it– to long to Remember Myself