Afraid of the Dark
I used to sleep, or rather not sleep, in tents, or rooms in the country with windows but no curtains, and imagine them sliced open with long claws, strange men or the will of the piercing wind. I’d lie down with clothes on, ready to bolt, fall almost asleep with the light on, but then switch it off real quick because, horrors, when I can’t see them, they see me.
And when I did sleep, however strangely, I had Nightmares. My parents burning alive, big bites of bloody hamburgers (I’m a lifelong vegetarian so this was embarrassing, confusing AND scary) and the dream I’ve dreamt the most: giving birth to dead bodies, babies who soon died in my care, babies I lost no matter how hard I cried.
I filled my days with brightness and light. I meditated, I journaled, I bent over for yoga. Healthy, good, smart, pretty. Weightless and naked in high desert hot springs, I envisioned my life wrapped in a golden cloud. Floating and painless like I was in the water. I hiked and hiked, drank gallons of alpine air desperate to drown out the tears. I could lock the windows and doors of my truck, snuggle under mountains of down and meditate myself to sleep, but alone after dark, fantasies and fear still always snuck in. I’d wake up in a panic under bumping bright headlights, park rangers or a party in the next pull out. Strangers, authorities, drunks. All on top of the dreams.
Stuffing the days with brightness, stillness, movement, exhaustion, did not numb the fear of the night.
How has it worked for you?
This is what I’ve learned to be true: Sleeplessness is not an inconvenience. Nightmares are not “just your imagination.” Fear is not a weakness or failing .
These are three angels of Darkness and they won’t leave you alone til they’ve earned your curiosity and respect.
Dark is half the story, half the time.
Dark is a rhythm, half of a rhyme.
We talk about learning to see in the dark, a beautiful, mystical metaphor, but these days I’m feeling my way through. When there’s no moon, no light, no milky way forward, you can’t exactly turn on the bright. I feel, grope, grasp, stumble and dance.