Realizations in the Dark: My Ongoing Dark Night of the Soul & The Quest for Dawn
What is a Dark Night of the Soul, and How I’m Managing My Own
I called my blog “Above The Middle” as an ode to stepping outside your dissatisfying reality and into a space of alignment where life synchronizes with your desires and authentic self. As someone who feels the mental strain of living inauthentically, I believe in this path.
In Carl Jung’s words, the neuroticism that comes with persistent inauthentic expression or what he termed “falsification of type” can only be healed by returning to one’s aligned state. He say:
“As a rule whenever such Falsification of Type takes place as a result of external influence, the individual becomes neurotic later, and a cure can successfully be sought only in the development of the attitude (i.e., function) which corresponds with the individual’s natural way.” — Carl Jung, Falsification of Type.
We can all achieve a state of authenticity; Carl Jung certainly thought it was a pathway out of the struggles he saw in his patients.
This being said, I’d be lying if I said I had all the answers.
I’d rather be seen as someone who shares their experience than a guide. Someone who can be related to, rather than someone looked up to, as in Ruth. I’m struggling to know what is right or wrong right now.
I’m experiencing a Dark Night of the Soul.
Dark Night of the Soul
The phrase “Dark Night of the Soul” dates back to the 1500s. In his poem “The Dark Night,” Spanish mystic and poet John Paul the Cross described a process of spiritual “purification” and initiation.
Eckhart Tolle describes it in potentially more palatable language as the “…collapse of a perceived meaning in life”, sharing close characteristics with what we in Western civilisation would call “Depression”.
In my own words, it is a spiritual and existential crisis for which we may not know the reason or solution. It’s the realization that our lives just aren’t satisfying, forcing us to let go of old beliefs, relationships, hobbies, and careers.
A Dark Night’s discomfort comes in realizing this fact and the process of letting go. The past 6 months, I’ve slowly weaned myself off many of my bad habits. I’ve distanced myself from alcohol and partying as a way, I’ve stepped back from pursuing romantic relationships to tend to intimacy wounds, and I have realized that I can’t keep working my day job.
These realizations have left me thinking, “What do I do now?” “How do I soothe myself?” and “Why do I feel so empty?”.
It’s confusing, and it’s meant experiencing a painful and lengthy process of grieving: I feel like I’m breaking up with my life.
Like waking up one day and rolling over to realize your partner next to you isn’t the one you love anymore (or many have never loved), I feel the same way, but about my entire life.
Now, I’m on the sidelines, watching things fall away and letting them because I know I have to. The Dark Night requires us to relinquish and let go.
It’s saddening to know that you gave your all, but it wasn’t enough, and you’re not happy or satisfied. It’s difficult to accept that you hurt yourself, self-sacrificing for the wrong reasons, and are hurting now.
All of this, and more, makes a Dark Night of the Soul a long and painful journey.
A Quest for Dawn: The Path Ahead
Without breaking down old, we wouldn’t become new.
Without not knowing what comes next, we wouldn’t strive to know.
Without apathy, we wouldn’t look for happiness.
Without grief, we‘d struggle to accept and move on.
Despite how challenging a Dark Night crisis may be, we can begin carving a path forward from this space of confusion, sadness, frustration, anger, and hopelessness.
It’s a choice that our awareness gives us. Do we follow our intuition and begin building a life that is in authentic alignment, or do we dig our heels into the ground and do the same as always? In my experience, the more stubborn we are in actioning our awareness the longer the night will drag on.
I’ve had some pretty big realizations the past year, and I’ve put off action for numerous reasons. Stability is one of them. The life I have now supports me: it pays the bills and keeps me warm at night — but is that enough when I climb into bed after a long day and feel nothing? Is it worth it when I give so much to others that I can barely remember who I am?
A voice inside tells me to quit my job and invest fully in my creative expression. It tells me to see the world and go traveling. I’ve tried pushing that voice aside, but the more I suppress it, the more dissatisfied and frustrated I become. How long can I keep up the act? It’s been years at this point.
I say this to say I think I’m headed towards a drastic change.
I’m tired of saving face and pretending I’m OK when I know what I want.
There is a risk involved, but I’d rather shed what is keeping me in the dark than lose my mind. Honestly, it feels like I am sometimes, probably because I keep pushing myself to make wrong right without making any changes.
The dark night is scary: it asks us to throw away our comforts for radical change without knowing the outcome.
What if I quit my job and struggle financially? What if I can’t make a living off my work? What if I leave the country and find myself still unhappy? What if I shed unserving relationships and end up with no one?
I believe the end of a night comes with faith and trust. For some, it means trusting in God or the universe. For others, it comes with learning to trust ourselves, listening, and being confident in how we feel right or wrong.
This night has broken me down, but it’s also reinforced my ideals, values, and objectives.
I’m walking towards Dawn.