Dark Nights of the Soul

I began reading the book Dark Nights of the Soul by Thomas Moore for my CPE class. Although I've only read about 70 pages, it has already gripped me and helped me. The second sentence of the introduction really jumped out at me.

"If your main interest in life is health, you may quickly try to overcome the darkness. But if you are looking for meaning, character, and personal substance, you may discover that a dark night has many important gifts for you. "

It made me reevaluate my treatment of trials and pain. With my divorce, as well as other difficult times in my life, I have wanted to get over it and through it as quickly as I can so I can return to "life as normal" (whatever that is). But should that really be my goal, to simply be in health and in peace? Isn't meaning, character, and personal substance far better of a goal? There is nothing wrong with wanting to be in health and be happy and at peace. But that should not be viewed as simply the absence of trials. If it is, then this "dark night of the soul" is an interruption, an enemy to be defeated to get back where I was. But when I look at the more important things like meaning and character, I realize that those things are most often found in the dark nights. Therefore the dark nights should be fully embraced. I should not fear it or run from it. For it is only through the dark nights that I can get that which I ultimately desire.

Yea though I walk

I was thinking today about another comment my counselor made awhile back. We were again talking about this sense of urgency I had to get things "solved" or "fixed". He said to me, "It sounds like you want to rewrite the 23rd Psalm to say 'Yea though I run through the valley of the shadow of death.'". It really struck me, and has been a source of contemplation for me. Why shouldn't we run through the pain? What is the purpose of walking? Naturally I want to rush through the painful times to get to the point where I feel better. And yet, it seems that there is value in walking. Perhaps the experience is more important than the end result. Perhaps there is something we miss when we run.

And what am I running from? Pain seems to be the obvious answer. But can I ever escape pain? Is it not a part of life? Is it not what makes me stronger? I view pain as an enemy to be conquered. When something happens that causes me pain, I see what can be done to avoid that pain again. This results in growth. And because of that growth, I am a much better person. So in some ways, that pain that I hate so much is also my ally.

My divorce is a great example of this. It has caused me more pain than I have ever had before. It's something that I would not wish on anyone, and hope I never endure again. And yet, if given the option, I wouldn't go back to the person I was before. I have grown and changed so much because of this divorce, and I wouldn't trade that for anything.

But I find myself just wanting it to be over. I am sick of the pain. I know that I am on the upward part of the valley. Sometimes I can see the light at the top so clearly that I forget I'm still in the valley. Until I trip on something and am reminded that I am not there yet. The valley is still here, and so is the pain. I suppose that means growth is still here as well, but that's only a mild encouragement. I wish I could run. I wish I could get it all over with. I want to move on. And yet this divorce will probably never be completely over. It will impact me for the rest of my life, and hit me when I least expect it. For such are the characteristics of grief. The wound may heal, but there will always be a scar. A scar to remind me of the pain so that I won't go through it again. But until that time, I will try to walk.