The Light of Forgiveness

 

     At this writing we are just in the 'dark of the moon' phase before Thursday's New Moon. The night sky is dark as there is no solar reflection off the face of the moon. Within three days a new crescent sliver will appear. Psychically this is a time ripe for inner retrospect, for deep listening. I usually find that I am tired mentally and physically and am instinctively introspective by this phase each month. Considering that we are also in a mercury retrograde I am especially so. It's time to honor and make space for extra rest, for journaling, and for spending time reviewing the past month. Somewhere under this veil of darkness there is something that unsettles me, something I need to hold and release. Holding on to it weakens me, so now is the time to circle round that wound casting it into the light of healing and forgiveness. 

     This particular pathway The Forgiveness of Light, #34, falls then at precisely the right time. Some years back I was inspired to collage my way through the "Sufi Book of Life- 99 Pathways of the Heart for the Modern Dervish" by Neil Douglas-Klotz. Through the expression of art I have experienced perhaps a deeper understanding and connection to the pathways more so then the years I spent reading them daily in my spiritual practice. Ever curious of symbols I find the hidden messages that speak through the images mystifying and always on point. I prepare for collage by asking for guidance and then pulling images that call to be used.

     Why are we afraid of the dark? Because we don't know what is hiding there in the shadows waiting to jump out and scare us half to death, hurt us or worst case scenario, kill us. It's in our best interest to be cautious in the dark because the darkness is disorienting. When the power goes out in a storm we stumble about running into walls, stubbing our toes on the coffee table and tripping over the cat while we frantically search for a candle or flashlight to illuminate our path. But what if we stood still for a moment  and allowed our eyes to get used to the dark? What if we allowed ourselves to be guided? What if we became so familiar with our surroundings that we knew exactly where the furniture was placed and how to navigate through our own rooms without sight? What if we learned to trust the darkness rather than fear it? 

      I have an ancient wound, we all do. It hides in the dark and waits. It is deep. It is painful. It bleeds. It scabs over until life picks at it or tears the wound open causing it to bleed once again. The back ground of my collage is the darker rusty red of old blood and it shows its scars. 

     On either side there is a tumult of water and sand raging and churning. Being a water sign I understand the changing surface of my emotions that can go from still and serene to frothing and raging in mere moments. I know my depths as I dive deeply on a regular basis into the darkness below. I am at home there now, though it was not always the case. And being empathic so too I feel the emotions and pain from those I come in contact with. At times it feels as though I struggle to live in the divide, in the middle between what is mine and what is not mine to hold and not hold onto. For we are all containers and as containers we carry, but we have the power to decide what we will carry forth.

     In the center of the raging water is an image of a deep, dark cave but in its roof there is a hole that allows light to enter. Down below a platform has been built which is surrounded by water. A lone figure stands in the center of the circle looking up while a beam of light illuminates the path behind him. It reminds me of the value of meditation; to stand within my own circle, my own vessel, in the dark while the chaos outside of myself rages. It is this light of understanding that illuminates the way back and I just realized the platform looks rather like a key. 

     In the center a rather ghostly figure flies across the expanse. She holds both darkness and light in the wide skirt of her dress as well as the figures of men; "a shroud or veil between a person and the ultimate Reality... Forgiveness can be a protective veil in that it reminds us that we are not always in a state of unity with Unity. We are still on the way." 

     A large iron bell tolls or rings out its message. Bells call to us, they wake us up, invite us to follow, they can both summon and ward us off. A compass overhead is a symbol of safety and protection being a tool of navigation. It always points north which spiritually to me means going in the direction of my own knowing and wisdom. Going home to my Self. It speaks to me of release and acceptance, forgiveness.     

     And finally a small figure casts his net into the maelstrom. What does he hope to catch? A net is a woven tool. It can represent the 'process of creation and growth' and the constant unfolding of the universe and our lives but as a tool it can also ensnare and trap. Light and darkness are ultimately woven together, that which we know and that which we don't know yet, but there, in the liminal space, resides the promise and the hope. In the casting movement it asks us to trust and keep casting into the depths. Sometimes I think I need to tattoo the word "TRUST" on my forehead! Over and over again we cast our net out. Drawing our net back in we are never sure if it will be empty of what we hoped we would catch. Our only hint may be the weight of the net but even then it may not be what we hoped for. That is life. Like the tides going in and out we must continue to cast out and then draw back. Every month the darkness of the moon invites us to pull back our nets, take stock and then release that which no longer needs to be held.  Only then can the forgiveness of light heal.