Into the darkness

This morning when I stepped out of the house for my morning dook, Scottish for a quick dip in the burn, this is at 6.45am and it was pitch dark and raining steadily. I was wearing what a dutch acquaintance calls Adam’s suit. Now, to the usual mind set, that act would be seen as bonkers but for me, whilst it does take an element of commitment because my logical mind say does say Nooooo, I simply step away from that mind set and it always turns out to be a joyous way to start the day.

I love the winter, the cold, the dark, at the winter solstice here in Scotland we have less than seven hours of daylight, and the feeling that comes with that is of hibernation.

When I am in my little meditation hut I get out my copy of the poem by Joyce Rupp called Winter’s Cloak.

   Winter’s Cloak

This winter I do not want

the dark to leave me.

I need its wrap

of silent stillness.

                  Its cloak

of long lasting embrace.

Too much light

has pulled me away

from the chamber

of gestation.

Let the dawns

come late,

let the sunsets

arrive early.

Let the evenings

extend themselves

while I lean into

the abyss of my being.

Let me lie in the cave

of my soul,

for too much light

blinds me,

Steals the source

of revelation.

Let me seek solace

in the empty places

of winter’s passage,

Those vast dark nights,

that never fail to shelter me.

                   by Joyce Rupp

These words encompass all that I enjoy about the darkness as I immerse myself into the icy embrace of the water, rather than recoil at the effect that it has on my body, I simply relax into the sensations. I don’t emerge from the water and rush indoors but dry myself in the open looking up at the sky and feeling and smelling the life around and within me.

I know that many find the winter period difficult, I’ve often wondered why and how they deal with it? What’s your reaction?

5 responses to “Into the darkness”

  1. Thank you for the marvellous poem by Joyce Rupp. – It took me some decades to accept the positive aspects of the darkness. Then I discovered the idea to welcome and to *greet* the dark during the Samhain ritual, to stand with it and in it, to let it soak into my body’s cells and to invite it to be my companion in winter. This has brought a big change. I quite familiar with the darkness now, I can use its talents and its support to help me with my inner development. It is not an enemy of life any more, but a nurturing, sheltering friend.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thank you for the marvellous poem by Joyce Rupp. – It took me some decades to accept the positive aspects of the darkness. Then I discovered the idea to welcome and to *greet* the dark during the Samhain ritual, to stand with it and in it, to let it soak into my body’s cells and to invite it to be my companion in winter. This has brought a big change. I quite familiar with the darkness now, I can use its talents and its support to help me with my inner development. It is not an enemy of life any more, but a nurturing, sheltering friend.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Dear Nathaire,

    I think years of city dwelling, and the attendant light pollution has interfered with my relationship to the winter darkness.

    That and the diluting of our winter Festivals – and the loss of community …

    When I was a child, I remember enjoying the church Harvest Festival and experiencing joy at the approach of winter, and the feeling of the community being prepared.

    I looked forward to the cosy winter nights by an open fire, staring at the dancing flames, waiting for Christmas – which was a quiet affair by today’s standards.

    The big Scottish Festival at that time was Hogmanay.

    The house would be cleaned from top to bottom, newspapers and calendars were thrown out: not a trace of the old year was to be leftover.

    Extended family would gather together.

    As midnight approached, and we waited for the “tall, dark and handsome” First Foot, windows would be opened to let in the Ne’erday air.

    After the new year greetings, we would all sit down to a full meal of steak pie and potatoes.

    The adults would have a wee dram (or two) and the weans would have ginger cordial.

    Then the singing and dancing would begin.

    Now even the festival of Samhain has been commercialised beyond recognition.

    I cope with having a SAD lamp, and getting out into the beautiful park nearby where I can witness Mother Nature changing her clothes.

    That, and blogs like yours, help me to keep a connection with Her.

    And I’m blessed to be aware of “the Peace which passeth understanding”.

    Thank you and Blessed Be!

    Grace Whyte ???????

    Sent from Outlook for iOShttps://aka.ms/o0ukef

    Sent from Outlook for iOShttps://aka.ms/o0ukef ________________________________

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    1. That’s a lovely reminder, as Druids we actually mark eight festivals throughout the year and that helps enormously with staying connected….our major event is alway the winter solstice on the 21st…

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  4. Thank you for your marvellous blog posts, I keep looking forward to them.

    In winter, I succeed in being awake for dawn more often, which I really enjoy. Unfortunately, I never manage to lower my productivity expectations for the shorter days. The last month of the year, before the calm two weeks of winter holidays (here in Germany), is often the busiest. This makes the hibernation drive quite inconvenient!

    Best wishes,
    John

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