Soul Food
As I write, it is winter. Each day is shorter, the light that burns and beats with such power in summer but a flicker against the cold. The winter solstice draws near. When it comes, dark will overcome light in the longest night of the year.
In tune with the rhythm of nature, we too might turn inward in this season. In doing so, we begin to see that dark and light are not opposites, but only a continuum. As the solstice teaches, it is at the moment of greatest darkness that light is reborn. From that instant on, the light grows stronger, the days grow longer, and the whole cycle begins anew.
Now is an especially good time to pay attention to our dreams. Not so much for what they say about our everyday concerns, but for the life-giving connection to an inner light. Following nature, we can draw our attention away from the outer world, perhaps glimpsing a direction we hadn’t noticed before. In our dreams, we find ourselves following a winding path into a dark wood. We may wander for a time, feeling lost. We fear we will die in the wilderness. Or perhaps our dreams take us to some unknown part of town, seedy, run-down, and dangerous-looking. Threatening characters appear from out of nowhere. They come after us, and we run for our lives. Yet, we only get more lost. We can’t escape. Perhaps we awake in panic from one of these heart-pounding dreams.
But wait. These dreams aren’t innately scary. They only seem so to the part of ourselves we know as “I”—our personal identity. This “I” believes it is in control, and when it encounters something vaster, it flees in terror. It fears and denies the unknown, as if to banish it. The unknown, however, is the mother of existence. It is also home to whatever we may need at any given moment.
That dark wood that frightens us so much may be filled with rich, lush growth. If we find ourselves wandering there, perhaps something new is beckoning from within. It wants our attention. And that seedy, scary side of town is only that way because we have neglected it. Perhaps the terrifying characters that pursue us through its dangerous streets are the vital energies we need for some new step, some fateful decision.
Rather than running away, we can look in wonder at what is trying to come forth. We can honor these powerful energies that are trying to wake us to a greater reality. Perhaps it’s time to let yourself get lost in something new and strange—any daring experience, big or small. Have you wanted to dance but never dared? Have you longed to climb some height but thought you’d never make it? Have you feared eating alone in a restaurant or going to a movie by yourself?
Our souls do not live by bread alone. In dreams, we learn to feed them.
Copyright © 2005 Donna Ippolito. All rights reserved.
In tune with the rhythm of nature, we too might turn inward in this season. In doing so, we begin to see that dark and light are not opposites, but only a continuum. As the solstice teaches, it is at the moment of greatest darkness that light is reborn. From that instant on, the light grows stronger, the days grow longer, and the whole cycle begins anew.
Now is an especially good time to pay attention to our dreams. Not so much for what they say about our everyday concerns, but for the life-giving connection to an inner light. Following nature, we can draw our attention away from the outer world, perhaps glimpsing a direction we hadn’t noticed before. In our dreams, we find ourselves following a winding path into a dark wood. We may wander for a time, feeling lost. We fear we will die in the wilderness. Or perhaps our dreams take us to some unknown part of town, seedy, run-down, and dangerous-looking. Threatening characters appear from out of nowhere. They come after us, and we run for our lives. Yet, we only get more lost. We can’t escape. Perhaps we awake in panic from one of these heart-pounding dreams.
But wait. These dreams aren’t innately scary. They only seem so to the part of ourselves we know as “I”—our personal identity. This “I” believes it is in control, and when it encounters something vaster, it flees in terror. It fears and denies the unknown, as if to banish it. The unknown, however, is the mother of existence. It is also home to whatever we may need at any given moment.
That dark wood that frightens us so much may be filled with rich, lush growth. If we find ourselves wandering there, perhaps something new is beckoning from within. It wants our attention. And that seedy, scary side of town is only that way because we have neglected it. Perhaps the terrifying characters that pursue us through its dangerous streets are the vital energies we need for some new step, some fateful decision.
Rather than running away, we can look in wonder at what is trying to come forth. We can honor these powerful energies that are trying to wake us to a greater reality. Perhaps it’s time to let yourself get lost in something new and strange—any daring experience, big or small. Have you wanted to dance but never dared? Have you longed to climb some height but thought you’d never make it? Have you feared eating alone in a restaurant or going to a movie by yourself?
Our souls do not live by bread alone. In dreams, we learn to feed them.
Copyright © 2005 Donna Ippolito. All rights reserved.
posted by donna ippolito @ 5:55 PM
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