Light in the Dark
“We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we chose to act on. That’s who we really are.”
What does it mean to be a lightworker in an age of darkness? We have a choice to make.
Do we let our light be seen and risk it being extinguished? Do we dim our light so we can do our work more quietly? Do we give in to the dark and extinguish our light when all seems impossible? Or do we stay the course and shine bright? I know what my purpose is here on earth. I am a lightworker. One of thousands of ordinary people who are here to help bring healing and understanding on this human journey in their own unique ways. I am meant to turn on my light and help those drawn to it find their own light. Holding space for them. Walking with them. Supporting. Mirroring. Reflecting.
But to do this work requires a real ability to see, sense and feel. It means being tuned into the energies of the earth and its people. When the darkness becomes so big and loud, it amplifies those energies 10-fold and overwhelms the nervous system of the sensitives. We risk feeling everything too much, too loud, for too long.
What are the alternatives? Numbing our senses? Protecting ourselves to the point of keeping everyone out? Ignoring the suffering? Wallowing in despair? Disassociating? Keep going until we burn ourselves out? Or trying day after to day to moderate, ground, and stay selectively open? It is often a rotation of all of these survival skills.
I want to turn my light on brighter than ever. I want to be in Dumbledore’s Army and hold space for everyone who needs it. I want to write. To speak. To feel. To have peace. To stay sturdy. To collapse when I need to and then get back up to fight another day. And some days I do. But more often than not right now, my darkness wins. I retreat. I am afraid. I am angry. I am deeply disappointed in people that I love who will not raise their voices to injustice. I am exhausted by the tsunami of cruelty day after day after day. The love still flickers within, but it gets harder to find. The voice cracks. The words won’t come from my head to my pen. And numbing feels way easier.
I am both light and dark and both serve me. But today, for this moment, I choose to act from the light. Because that is who I truly am. I will be tired and afraid and show up anyway.
