Even In The Darkness You Do Not Walk Alone

There are those for whom when darkness falls the day is just beginning. Battle weary before the battle has even commenced, we offer complete surrender to the ribald claws of anxiety, our fears reaching their zenith in the uncertainty of night. The blackness becomes the plush velvet backdrop to the projector-reel of tomorrow’s worries. An endless loop in an infinite darkness.

And yet, even in the darkest hour, the moon casts down her reassuring light. It, of all Nature, knows what we are going through.

The moon is a blueprint of all that it is to be human. Shining and beautiful but also full of shadows and craters, unknowable crevices where hope and fear compete to reign supreme. The moon’s cyclic patterns speak to the changing tides of life in all its frailties, its fullness indicative of our joys and triumphs, its wane representing our sorrows and weaknesses. Only one face of the world is there for us to see; the other side remains hidden. That which is visible is hung out in the night sky, exposed and vulnerable, unable to protect itself from judgement or critique; that which is hidden is accused of harbouring dark secrets. The moon is powerless to plead its innocence. Yet in spite of this, each night it makes the mammoth trek up the desolate blue of the sky to get to its throne, alone in the vast skies, the stars too small to share its weighty burden. Alone, it awaits its judgement, unable to speak its own truth or offer its defence.

Here on earth, these cyclic lunar patterns are represented in the age-old practice of walking the labyrinth. For centuries people have made this journey, pulled by a spiritual gravity that takes ourselves and our prayers closer to god. On that meandering path, we learn to cast aside the chaotic tangle of thoughts and fears and surrender our worries until we are able to focus the mind on the one single, inevitable path available to us: the future. The shift in consciousness brings us inner peace. Our soul grows lighter until we are bathed in the waters of calm serenity, floating in amniotic lullaby, and eventually becomes light enough to float like a feather on the breath of god.

Maybe the answer to our fears, then, lies in embracing the dark side, using it to fuel us, guide us, give us silence that we might have time and place to straighten our thoughts. So even in the nighttime you do not walk alone. For under the moon, you are walking with a friend. She understand what it is to be imperfect in a world that doesn’t tolerate imperfection. She knows what it is to turn her face and crave the sanctity of darkness. She knows what it is to feel flawed and dreadfully exposed. And yet in spite all of that, she still manages to light up the whole of the sky.

Perhaps we are all broken so that the light can find its way in through the cracks.