inner journey
I am nearly 40 years old. When I was a teenager and deep in depression I believed one day healing would come. I believed that if one has faith, eventually God comes along and says "well, I think you've suffered enough now. Good job." and then healing comes and you move on to the next phase of your life. I didn't just hang around waiting, but somewhere inside, while I worked on the outside, somewhere inside I was waiting.
Now it's been a couple of decades. I still believe in healing, but I'm not so sure it comes to everyone. For more than 20 years I have tried every possible trail that seemed could lead out of the darkness and into the light. But each trail faded back into the impenetrable forest of gloom, leaving me always feeling as though I had gone somewhere but that that somewhere was more of the same as the previous somewhere. That is to say, I had gone nowhere.
I suppose it is human nature to keep on. Perhaps this will be the pattern of my life until the end. But as always I am picking another trail. I don't know if it will be different. This time, I choose darkness. This time I am not walking forwards, I set my sights not upon the peak. I set my path deeper into the gloom. What is there? Where is my self? My whole self. Where are the missing pieces? The dark chasm of my childhood. Empty of parents. Empty of friends. Empty of love. The chasm of loneliness, of loss. Where are those pieces?
Darkness resents light. Loneliness resents friendship. Pain resents joy. Resentment resents forgiveness. Resentment. Resents. Healing.
Going forward is an illusion, when in truth you are grasping on to the past. Grasping it because it is the most important thing in your soul. The wounds, the loss. So I abandon the illusion of light being there. No path to light. I take what light I have and head into the darkness. What does that mean? Darkness? Just poetic words. I embark on a journey. A journey to fear, to pain. To a lonely child, a man crying over loss. Are they me? Yes, also. But not all of me.
There is more of me. Carrying the Lord's light. I am not alone.
Now it's been a couple of decades. I still believe in healing, but I'm not so sure it comes to everyone. For more than 20 years I have tried every possible trail that seemed could lead out of the darkness and into the light. But each trail faded back into the impenetrable forest of gloom, leaving me always feeling as though I had gone somewhere but that that somewhere was more of the same as the previous somewhere. That is to say, I had gone nowhere.
I suppose it is human nature to keep on. Perhaps this will be the pattern of my life until the end. But as always I am picking another trail. I don't know if it will be different. This time, I choose darkness. This time I am not walking forwards, I set my sights not upon the peak. I set my path deeper into the gloom. What is there? Where is my self? My whole self. Where are the missing pieces? The dark chasm of my childhood. Empty of parents. Empty of friends. Empty of love. The chasm of loneliness, of loss. Where are those pieces?
Darkness resents light. Loneliness resents friendship. Pain resents joy. Resentment resents forgiveness. Resentment. Resents. Healing.
Going forward is an illusion, when in truth you are grasping on to the past. Grasping it because it is the most important thing in your soul. The wounds, the loss. So I abandon the illusion of light being there. No path to light. I take what light I have and head into the darkness. What does that mean? Darkness? Just poetic words. I embark on a journey. A journey to fear, to pain. To a lonely child, a man crying over loss. Are they me? Yes, also. But not all of me.
There is more of me. Carrying the Lord's light. I am not alone.
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