Befriending the light
This is something I've been pondering for several months now. On the shamanic path we learn to befriend the darkness, to befriend death. We are taught that the most potent medicine is often found in the darkest of places and when we rally our courage and venture into those spaces with a brave heart, we access the wisdom and the healing. When we befriend death as part of the natural cycle, it can no longer stalk us and we can live our life with greater freedom. Having experienced the sudden death of a spouse, this journey to befriend the darkness has been an integral part of my experience and in some ways, one that came fairly easily to me. Lately though, as I sit with my own places of tenderness, and those of my clients, I've begun to see that it's equally important to befriend the light.
It's become a bit of a new age hippie mantra that we're all about "love & light." But are we? As the light of consciousness arrives in increasingly intense and magnificent waves, are we embracing it or shrinking from it? We say we want the light, but do you know what light does—it ILLUMINATES. It shines brightly into all the deep corners and shows us all the elephants in the room. When we venture into the shadow we go seeking this awareness, but the light doesn't require the same kind of effort, it arrives and shines and there is no hiding what it has to show us.
I think for most of us, we become accustomed to the disappointments, suffering, and pain inherent in the human experience. These experiences carry the invitation to befriend the darkness and for many, myself included, we develop mastery around navigating these spaces and harvesting the gifts and medicine. The darkness becomes comfortable and familiar. But what about the light?
As we release what no longer serves, what we've outgrown, what has come to completion, we create more space to welcome the light into our vessel, into our life. Just as important as creating the space within, we must also create a willingness to befriend and work with the light. We call forward the light in prayers, meditation, and we proclaim love and light, yet are we willing to actually let the light arrive, integrate, and dance with us? Do we welcome it wholeheartedly and give our full permission for it to illuminate the truths of our inner and outer landscape?
For many, this is some deeply scary stuff because the light is the bearer of ALL truths. What I'm noticing is that the scariest truths are often the truths of how amazing, powerful, brilliant, full of potential, worthy, loved, and precious we are. The light shows us the path to manifest our most heartfelt longings that we may rarely voice even to ourselves. The light can't help but shine on it all and show us the next step to get there. The next step is most often the uncomfortable practice of be willing to sit with the mess now revealed, bless it all, then bit by bit begin to tidy things up. You can't unsee it once the light has arrived. Remember the saying "you can run, but you can't hide"—this is the loving tease of the light.
As we enter the season of holy days/holidays honoring the LIGHT, many of us illuminate our homes and decorate with twinkling lights that shine during the darker nights. So as we prepare for the final Full Moon of this year, and approach the threshold of Winter Solstice that will birth us back into the increasing light, let us use this time to befriend the light. Let us sit with the polarities of the light and shadow and consider where we feel most at home. Before we create our resolutions and intentions for the New Year, let us first create our agreements to welcome and work with the light. What will your journey with the light be this year and how can you welcome it as your traveling companion? To birth the New Earth, create lasting change, heal our hearts, and weave a web of light, we must first befriend the light as our loving ally.
“Each day more light returns to the Earth,
the light of all we’ve known.
In welcoming we open our hearts,
that light may flood our soul.”
— Part of a channeled song, Brittney Marie Stauffer 2016