The Dark Night

After breaking up with my (now ex-)boyfriend, I have rediscovered what some Christian contemplatives or mystics have called "The Dark Night of the Soul." Dark Night of the Soul is also a poem written by Saint John of the Cross, and it is copied and pasted at the bottom of this entry--also see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_Night_of_the_Soul. Essentially, it is about a journey towards God (and I would re-interpret, existential meaning and purpose), which requires a deep appreciation for the moments in which we feel utterly separate from God (or utterly lost).

I am also especially touched by Anais Mitchel's song called "Changer." You can go to iTunes to buy it (and to support her work). In the expanse of time that has opened (now that I am no longer occupied with the care of a romantic relationship in the evenings) I have begun to learn to play this song on the guitar. The lyrics to Mitchel's song are also at the bottom of this entry.

And I have written my own lyrics to a new song, although these are not included in this post. The song is based on Anais Mitchel's "Changer." Ask me to sing my new song for you some time. It will help me.

Generally speaking, breakups are hard. But I did not expect this one to be as hard as it has been. Of course, I hoped it would not ever end at all--so silly of us to hope this about many things (but in other ways it is just as wise, as silly).

The strangeness of my experience is most striking. I am existing in a new city, my early-youth has escaped me and now I face, finally, the promises of incomes and stability (at some point near). These elements of my new reality are coupled with the wreckage of an ended relationship, which I had hoped (blatantly prematurely and naively) would be one of the last romantic relationships I would ever have (that this one might be "the one"). I am a traditionalist in this way--waiting certainly not for someone to come along to complete me, but waiting indeed for long-term companionship, marriage, two children and a dog. The confluence of my newly clarified "adult-ness" and a burgeoning romance set me (rather unexpectedly) towards this line of expectation and thinking.

So with the end of this relationship in particular, the brokenness extends beyond just my feelings. My sense of direction and stability has been thwarted, like a boat whose anchor has snapped and whose sails face the wind in the wrong direction. I am adrift, in one sense.

I know that in other senses I am doing JUST FINE! For, I am set for at least another year in terms of essentials (money, food, housing, clothes). I have a loving and supportive family, and a developing network of friends in Boston. I am engaged in meaningful (if occasionally frustratingly boring) studies. These things seem, however, puny in the expanse of the loneliness, the expanse of this dark night and the accompanying sadness when it closes around me (as it sometimes does).

Yet a part of me, too, rejoices in my grief--the hardship that I face proves that I am without a doubt ALIVE. It brings also into focus the many gifts and the many blessings available to us in even the simplest of experiences. Recently I laughed at the simplicity of an old woman taking her time down the sidewalk of Harvard Square--as busy, worried, and incorrigibly tunneled students pushed past her (frustrated faces). She was humming, no less, and clearly oblivious or serenely apathetic to the surrounding hurriedness.

Also I am deeply appreciative of exactly how beautiful the break-up itself was. For even though he no longer loved me, he cared deeply for me. This is the true nature of human experience, and it is the source and picture of peace. We imagine that somehow peace or nonviolence means Kumbaya-nothing-bad's-gonna-happen. When in fact it is more akin to an approach to suffering, rather than to an end to suffering.

He and I: In the face of our sure, impending brokenness we sat and cried--loving each other still, despite the changes that were to come and the loneliness and grief we both were to feel. Sometimes the best thing to do is to admit that an end has come--that relationship is impossible. We can still in good faith walk away, wishing the best for each other, in the certainty that we will find what we need in other places.

Here's to the learning that is to come, and to the introspection that has been prompted.

For Now,
Zachary

Dark Night of the Soul

Upon a darkened night
the flame of love was burning in my breast
And by a lantern bright
I fled my house while all in quiet rest

Shrouded by the night
and by the secret stair I quickly fled
The veil concealed my eyes
while all within lay quiet as the dead

Oh night thou was my guide
oh night more loving than the rising sun
Oh night that joined the lover
to the beloved one
transforming each of them into the other

Upon that misty night
in secrecy, beyond such mortal sight
Without a guide or light
than that which burned so deeply in my heart

That fire t'was led me on
and shone more bright than of the midday sun
To where he waited still
it was a place where no one else could come

Within my pounding heart
which kept itself entirely for him
He fell into his sleep
beneath the cedars all my love I gave
And by the fortress walls
the wind would brush his hair against his brow
And with its smoothest hand
caressed my every sense it would allow

I lost myself to him
and laid my face upon my lovers breast
And care and grief grew dim
as in the mornings mist became the light
There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair
There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair
There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair
--http://www.xs4all.nl/~josvg/cits/lm/lorecd53.html

Lyrics to "Changer," by Anais Mitchel

if I can't keep it
at least let me call it by name
that was called falling
this is called pain
it's called love, what I'm losing
I know love is a stranger
I know that changes come
I know love is a changer

I'm gonna go quietly
you don't have to tell me to
just let me lie a little longer next to you
I'm not trying to bother you
I'm just trying to breathe you in
and then I will leave you there
where you are sleeping

but speaking of loving you, I do
I'm telling you stranger to stranger
whatever changes come to you
I'm telling you changer to changer

morning has stolen your shadow from me
but I hold its shape in my mind
it's the shape of your back when you turned it on me
one last time

out in the waking world
nobody understands
exactly how light it is
exactly how free I am
one minute I'm laughing
and the next one I'm lost
I'm watching the birds fly by
I'm watching the highways cross
speaking of loving you, I do
I'm telling you stranger to stranger
whatever changes come to you
I'm telling you changer to changer

if I can't keep it, at least let me call it by name

--http://www.anaismitchell.com/jukebox.html

And a friend just sent me the following link, which I think goes well with this post:

http://www.patheos.com/Resources/Additional-Resources/Blessing-for-Divorce-Meg-Riley-02-11-2011.html?sms_ss=facebook&at_xt=4d562646322d972d,0

Also this is another pertinent poem:

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

~ Rumi ~