I’ve always felt very at home while the darkness surrounds and blankets me. I know that sounds spooky. And yet I also know, I’m comforted because there’s a great deal of darkness that dwells inside of me. That sounds even spookier.
I don’t mean it to be. I have always been this way. Something within my soul settles down when the night takes center stage. And, something within my mind increases in clarity. Most likely due to there being so few extra sensory distractions.
The darkness that lives inside of me has been my friend as much as it has been my enemy. At times it has attempted to suffocate the life from me. At times it has forced me to breathe. Those who have battled depression, will find resonance with what I’ve just said. It was in January of 2009 that I found myself having a rather heated exchange with this darker side. I found no purpose or good within this part of myself. All the while, knowing, I am as much dark as I am light. Stifling my darkness meant living only a fraction of who I am. I sat, angry, sad and hopeless - convinced that no good comes from the thoughts that spin and twirl from this deep dark place. I grabbed my lap top and began to write. What I wrote was so startlingly sad, I knew no one would ever want to read it. I didn’t want to read it. Wiping my tears away, I placed my fingers on the keyboard and started again. Four weeks later my first novel was written. And those cryptic words that had first erupted from me, now sit within that novel as song lyrics. Just as, I believe, they were intended.
My darkness provided insight into what was needed to tell the story. I have since discovered that my darkness is the contrast that allows the light within me to shine. I no longer deny this side of myself its place in my life. And by stepping aside to give it its due - it no longer wants to choke the life out of me. I no longer wrestle with it in the same way. To be humbly honest, I am grateful for it and what it provides me. It is vital to who I am. It should come as no surprise that the story that poured from me within that four week span, was about a writer who battles similar darkness. Yet the voice of her depression expressed itself not on paper, but through music. And that music caught the ear of a gentle, beautiful soul - the partner fate knew she needed. I watched the story paint itself onto the screen of my laptop. I didn’t know the next word I was about to type. I only knew to keep typing. The story took my breath away. I cried. I laughed. My soul had a very strong talk with me - during those four weeks. And I will never forget what it said. Of course if ever I do, I simply turn back the first page of that story and absorb its words once more. It’s all right there. And as I reread it again over the weekend, preparing it for publication, I grew ever more convinced in its purpose.
There are quite a few like me out there, walking around, wondering what to do with all that stirs from deep inside of them. Claim it. Make it your own. You are who you are for a reason. My darkness grew tired of waiting for me to figure this out. So it rose up and spoke to me. If I didn’t begin to live my purposed life, I would die. I had two choices: accept myself and begin walking the journey I’ve been brought here to walk or live a life filled with the struggle of a soul drowning under the waters of discontentment. A soul discontent with its journey is a lethal thing. Whatever your gift is, embrace it. It doesn’t matter if the world awards you, or if those that surround you applaud. That may very well happen, but even if it doesn’t, walk your walk. It’s your walk and only you have your inherent gift. You're never alone, not as long as I'm here. And God knows - the world needs you - and what you have to offer.
Sane
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