What's Being Born in the Darkness?

"The womb is as dark as the tomb."
~Rebecca Solnit, in an interview with Krista Tippett for On Being


Though the winter solstice is behind us and our days are slowly, incrementally, getting longer again (at least here in the Northern Hemisphere), we nonetheless spend much of our time in darkness during the winter months. Historically, as the days grew darker and the nights became longer – as the field work was buried beneath snow and the collected provisions were long gathered to get us through the winter – it was a season of looking inward. A time of reflection.
And yet, for most of us, darkness has become synonymous with fear, with a lack of hope, with stagnation.
But writer and historian Rebecca Solnit sees it differently, saying, "the womb is as dark as the tomb." Darkness, she implies, can be an incubator for growth. Hope, the promise of a different tomorrow, can take root in darkness.
It comes down, as we often talk about here, to the stories we tell ourselves.
If you're here, you know suffering. And it's so tempting to turn away from it, to try to outrun it. One of the most common questions I get asked here is "when will this be over? When will the pain stop?". I can't answer that. It will be different for each woman. But I do know this: The faster you run, the more you try to bury or ignore your pain, the longer it will take. Which is why it's crucial to slow down and take some time to reflect. To look at the darkness you're in right now. To ask yourself what could possibly take root in it, where the hope is to be found within it.
It's hard work. It's incredibly uncomfortable to sit with our pain. Far more preferable to reach for the phone and log onto Facebook where we stalk the OW's profile, looking for...what exactly? More pleasant, at least in the short run, to go shopping. To bingewatch Netflix.
That's okay. Your pain will still be there when you're done. The problem is, the more you ignore it, the deeper it gets buried and the more it tries to get your attention. In aches or illness. In poor choices. In misplaced anger. In depression.
I cannot promise you easy answers in the dark. But I can promise to sit with you there. I can promise that you are strong enough to face your pain. I can promise you that, no matter what he does, you can give birth to something incredible in the dark: you can be the hero you need for this journey.
"The womb is as dark as the tomb," Solnit tells us. And what she means, of course, is that darkness can be a birthplace as much as a final resting place. Figure out what needs to die – old habits, perhaps? A harsh inner critic? And take notice of what is being born. If you can be patient and gentle with it, you'll discover it's something incredible.