The Darkness: Pain and Liberation

February 12, 2020

A photo of a woman in a cave looking toward the light coming from the opening.
Reading Time: 4 minutes

I have been meaning write about my perception of the darkness for quite a while, and have written a few poems about it. Now it’s time to try prose!

The catalyst comes from reading last week’s Healers’ posts on vulnerabilities, diagnoses, shadows and water.

I enjoy nature in the dark, the mild air and sometimes the chaotic wind clearing inner cobwebs, the outline of the trees and the sound of the animals.

The truth is, I love it! Walking or running in the dark, I feel safe and secure. This sounds silly right? Fine, but if you think about it, it’s not!

For me the darkness takes me back to the womb, where life is pure, sweet and safe–all you hear is muffled sounds and all you feel is water.

A photo of a woman in a cave looking toward the light coming from the opening.

Untitled by Andrei Lazarev

The darkness also takes me to my seeping, weeping wounds that need attention–the deep traumatic pain which has played out in forms like lack of self love or self-care, anger, volatility and so on.

Dark wounds need to be wrapped in love and acceptance, and told:

“It’s okay–that you are okay, not damaged–you are whole and you are complete and its my validation you need not the outside world!”

Through years of self-development and wound management, I have started to unwind the deep trauma. The last residue is/was in the left side of my body.

I ended up with cellulitis (inflammation) of the eyes and sinuses problems, which has been painful. The antibiotics and pain killers don’t help much anymore but it seems to have come to an end.

My spirit left my body when I was a child, after being raped. My soul was tainted with the shame, the pain–the burden, the heaviness I have carried for forty years of my life.

The illnesses I have suffered, the worthless relationships with friends and lovers I experienced, was all due to not attending to crying wounds.

Internal transformation from years of therapy has finally paid off! I am finally evolving into my true self, or my spirit has finally come home and my soul is free.

I promised prose, but let’s take a (prosaic) poetry break, to discuss a recent interaction I regretted, anyway:

Dear Lulu,

Out of the blue we came into each others’ space–I don’t think we both know why. Something changed after a couple of years of being acquainted! We shared an experience of relating to each others pain.

We chatted, which then led to miscommunication. One says one thing, the other thinks it means something else. It was simple. You expressed an interest in liking curry. I offered to cook for you while I make my own dinner for the week ahead.

I realized after the exchange of text communication that something wasn’t right!

Weeks later we met on the dojo. The suppression of miscommunication tumbled into the three-dimensional reality.

I would have preferred it if you hadn’t taught some of the class that day, as I could sense something wasn’t right. I was also in pain recovering from a viral infection which was actually a process of harnessing and healing my spirit and soul.

I punched you in the stomach, when I should of hit you in hand! I saw red! That is no excuse. Still, you always say you are made out cement!

I was avoiding sparring with you, but you called me over. You were still angry from the punch–my head was spinning to. You were saying something and I was asking if we can use knees–I put my knee up. You hit the roof and told to do push ups!

You then asked me if I was okay as I was leaving you called me into the office to tell me off–you didn’t really care how felt! So it was difficult to express.You told me how you were, you told me how you didn’t deserve me punching you in the stomach, you said this was out of character for me and yes, it was. If you knew me really, you would know it was not intentional. I was off guard my own wound-demon got the better of me!

The intimate chats we had about our past experiences triggered the feeling that I was an option, a pawn in a game when it suited you.

It reminded me of the degrading process of arranged marriage, when suitors come and look at you as an option.

I don’t expect you understand this as you are male and I female. We’re also from different generations and cultures.

You didn’t deserve me punching you, but this not all my fault. I know I have triggered a deep wound in you too.

Later I went home and processed what happened. I tried to message you but you blocked from Instagram and that’s okay. It’s alright.

I wanted to send you a genuine apology and ask you to forgive me but if you can’t forgive that’s okay too.

You had a part to play to. “It takes two to tango.” I am not entirely to blame but I am brave and strong enough to take responsibility of my actions and say sorry when I need to.

Whether you are interested or not, you have healed a deep embedded wound in me. I no longer feel ashamed of being a rape victim. I can happily accept you blocking me on Instagram, because I am good enough and I am enough and I am whole and healed.

You and I both know–deep in the heart and soul–that I am not an erratic person.

I am sorry we were each other’s triggers and I pray you can see the light in this beautiful darkness some day and heal your own pain!

Every now again I read Neal Donalds Walsh’s “Little Soul and the Sun.” I finally accept only God does send us Angels.

If it wasn’t for the darkness within the inner and outer worlds rearing its beautiful head to be healed and whole again, where would we be?

The dark needs the light and light the dark. It’s knowing how being in love with both of them, that’s the key to becoming one again.

You must take responsibility of your behavior and heal, but don’t let another dish the blame on you completely either.


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