Reviewing my journal I found the following prayer, quoted from The Sacrament of the Present Moment, recorded on January 6 of this year:
Mystify me, arouse and confuse me. Shatter all my illusions and plans so that I lose my way, and see neither path nor light until I have found You.
May 15, 2008
Light darkness
I have been walking through a place of darkness. My surroundings obscured, but my progress unhindered by the lack of definition as a light has been continually cast before my steps leading me on like a flashlight beam directed at the stepping stones of a path through a darkened wood. During this time I have learned to trust the goodness of the one holding the light to continue to lead, continue to guide although the clarity of my way has recently been diminishing. The light has become ever softer, the darkness denser around me, my pace slowing. I found myself straining to see the next place my foot was to go as the strength of the light faded; yet amazingly I remained as rest, peacefully focused.
And now I find myself seated in a deep, starless, moonless darkness, held in place by a lack of direction, a lack of knowing the way for all lights have gone out, and I cannot even make out the rough outline of my closest surroundings. With this, there is a deep stillness, a quiet that is equivalent to my ears as the darkness is to my eyes.
Something brushes past my arm creating a stirring of air across my cheek, a movement from an unseen source, but as if expected, it does not startle me. I strain to see, but only the dark. As if with intention after a time, I feel this one again passing close enough to touch my still form, and this time not only is there no fear, but instead a glimpse of joy.
The deepness of this dark is impenetrable. No hint of form or shape, path or direction. I close my eyes, allowing my other senses to more fully engage, and as I do, I find that I am surrounded by brightness. Quickly, I open them again and find the darkness is still all around me. Again, closing my eyes, the light returns. I allow myself to stay this time, and I begin to feel a warmth like a midday sun falling on my face. Settling into this warmth, it envelopes me like a blanket on a cool day.
Again one brushing past me, but this time before moving on, a hand briefly caressing my face, it takes my breath away as I sense the touch of perfect love.
Opening my eyes to see who is there, finding again only the deep dark. I remain still, quiet, at peace, aware of the activity of love.
The darkness, the lack of direction, the questions of uncertainty remain, but in the midst of this is the bright light of a presence beyond description, a tangible, absolutely real experience of Jesus I could not otherwise know.
Is this the Dark Night of the Soul of which I have heard?
And now I find myself seated in a deep, starless, moonless darkness, held in place by a lack of direction, a lack of knowing the way for all lights have gone out, and I cannot even make out the rough outline of my closest surroundings. With this, there is a deep stillness, a quiet that is equivalent to my ears as the darkness is to my eyes.
Something brushes past my arm creating a stirring of air across my cheek, a movement from an unseen source, but as if expected, it does not startle me. I strain to see, but only the dark. As if with intention after a time, I feel this one again passing close enough to touch my still form, and this time not only is there no fear, but instead a glimpse of joy.
The deepness of this dark is impenetrable. No hint of form or shape, path or direction. I close my eyes, allowing my other senses to more fully engage, and as I do, I find that I am surrounded by brightness. Quickly, I open them again and find the darkness is still all around me. Again, closing my eyes, the light returns. I allow myself to stay this time, and I begin to feel a warmth like a midday sun falling on my face. Settling into this warmth, it envelopes me like a blanket on a cool day.
Again one brushing past me, but this time before moving on, a hand briefly caressing my face, it takes my breath away as I sense the touch of perfect love.
Opening my eyes to see who is there, finding again only the deep dark. I remain still, quiet, at peace, aware of the activity of love.
The darkness, the lack of direction, the questions of uncertainty remain, but in the midst of this is the bright light of a presence beyond description, a tangible, absolutely real experience of Jesus I could not otherwise know.
Is this the Dark Night of the Soul of which I have heard?
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