November tends to freak me out. The lack of sunshine attempts to pull me down into a hopeless state, like some giant squid wrapping its powerful tentacles around my human fraility. Fake light doesn’t do it for me I’m afraid. The glitz of stores with their frenzy of piped Christmas music and shiny come ons don’t do it either. In the seasonal gloom, my old ego tends to raise its semi-mournful head, demanding to be reinstated as the only effective leader of my being.
What I need is some Light, so where on Earth is it to be found? On some distant, sun drenched shore, or somewhere closer to hand? Well, it’s certainly not to be found in the powers that be, those who reassure us that all will be well if we just let them them get on with their dubious tasks. “We’ll make you safe by bombing the hell out of terrorists and the unavoidable collateral damage (innocent folk) in a foreign land.” I’m afraid that, “Let’s loosen the dogs of war on those who dare to terrorise us!” just doesn’t invoke the Light for me. Rather, it sends me further into a dark belief that mankind is totally screwed but just won’t admit it.
No, the Light will have to come from somewhere other than the bastions of power, whether political or religious, for it looks like they operate in a permanent dark room, one where only negatives are developed.
Thankfully, there is some hope, the hope of a reassuring Light, one that dispels our darkness when given half the chance. The trouble is we’re not too keen on letting it loose, for it cuts across our sense of ego identity. For It is the Light of Source, the One who dispels our sense of pseudo-independence. Strangely though, It isn’t an aggressive external invader, one with an angry, violent streak, but a Compassionate Presence that has already planted Itself deep behind our dark, defensive lines. A benign Sleeper, that patiently awaits the go ahead from our ever resistant Will.
I guess it’s no surprise then, that when the penny finally drops we’re usually at the end of our rope, viz. when physical, psychological and spiritual exhaustion have flattened our inert sense of being. As they stand over us, a crack appears in our hardened ego shell that reveals a most shocking, yet ultimately comforting Truth. The One from whom we’ve been hiding all our restless years, has been planted in the deepest recesses of our psyche-soul since we burst forth from our mother’s womb.
If we allow It, this benign Light will turn our lives upside down. Its Power, Wisdom and above all Unconditional Love is peerless. It’s in a healing league of Its own. Letting go and bathing in Its welcoming rays will change our spiritual focus forever. No longer will we permanently dwell in a Valley of Shadows, the place of the living dead. Rather, we are freed to dance for joy, even when surrounded by the outside gloom of all things Winter.
A gift of overwhelming authenticity, one that surpasses all the temporary thrills of acquistive Christmas desire. So, may the Divine spark explode into all Its glorious Fire within each of our love-starved psyches during this winter period.