Returning To The Dark

It’s dark. It is always seems dark here. It’s the same but different. It always seems that way here.

This time she didn’t fight. Last time she had fought it, but the two of them were calling together. When they call together, nothing can save you, you are going down to the dark, whether you want to or not.


Those two have real power. Lots more then any of the others. None of the others even come close to them. Those two are the real thing.


Back to the dark. There is something else different here. Very different. It takes her a while to figure it out, but eventually she does. It is Her. She is different.


Whispers echo in the dark. Her voice, their voices. Voices from life times ago, this life time, years ago, months ago, days ago, moments ago …


Her mind refuses to be still, wants to wonder and play, it has become a naughty child who refuses to be still. She can not focus, can not catch the whispers.


How did she get to this she wonders. She looks back through the darkness, and is saddened by what she sees. The deeper she looks the harder it is for her to believe she is seeing her own memory.


this is a trick she shrills into the darkness. Their voices come back to her, no it is not they say, and there is laughter behind the words. They know, they were there. They have been there.


She falls to her knees as her eyes look back deeper and deeper. Winding back in time she watches each twist in the thorny bush that grows from her back.


Suddenly the voices go quiet, the dark gets even darker. The moment hits her like a flash of pure sunlight in her darkened eyes. She screams from deep within, rubbing her palms into her eyes.


As if that will un-see what she just discovered.


From the moment she stumbled upon this place, sat cross legged and whispered those ancient words, opened her mind and dreamscapes, stepped from the edge and floated like an autumn leaf into the abyss …


It has all been the process. This is what she began. This IS her great work. The complete undoing of oneself. The voyage in a short space of time from maiden to mother to crone.


Her mind almost snaps at complexity of it all. Trying to encompass it all. Then THAT moment hit.


THAT moment of repeatedly pulling it all down (the tower) and then rebuilding the ruins on the same spot again an again. Never rebuilding it whole.


THAT moment when she cut the world away from her again and again, not ever understanding what was right before her. Not knowing the process for what it was.


THAT moment of knowing you began something without understanding the full implications until it was over, and so much had been lost because you just didn’t know.


THAT single moment when she realised she has been deep into the abyss for years, suffered in ways only those whom have been there can understand, that she had come out the other side.


THAT FUCKING EXCITEMENT AT KNOWING YOU WALKED THROUGH THE ABYSS AND CAME OUT ALIVE, KICKING & SCREAMING, BETTER THEN EVER MORE ALIVE THEN EVER!!!


Yeah, that moment, she stands in the dark and that moment hits her and she laughs. Laughs like she hasn’t laughed in time forgotten, laughs like she might just be crazy, and they laugh with her. She knows that without them, she may not have made the journey through. Her beautiful brothers.


For the longest time she has been praying to the Gods & Goddesses to set her free, and in THAT moment she realises that right now, her prayer have been answered. This knowledge has set her free. Her mind flexes.


There is nothing she can not do. The long and painful journey, the initiation, the test of the crossroads has been completed. Not one thing about it was easy, it took her to the very brink of herself.


Then it took her outside herself and she became something else. A wraith. A dark thing. Lost. Pathetic. Finally nothing. Just an existence. It ripped her down to the very foundations and showed her she knew nothing.


And then it beat her senseless. Every time she thought she had found a way out, the walls closed in that little bit tighter and beat her down some more. Down and down and down, for years she fell down.


A cleverly designed spiral, that went down and down while giving the illusion of going up …


Finally, convinced she was never going to get out, she began to falter. She tried to burn it all, she really did. They called to her, those voices in the dark, and she fought them, Yet they got through, before it was too late and she pulled herself back from the brink of brinks. She gave it one last shot, she thought maybe this time she was really out in the sunlight.


The dark can be so cruel.


You can only fool yourself for so long before you have to face the facts. She was unraveling at an accelerated pace. She knew it but seemed powerless to stop herself. Paranoia was the least of her problems, she had no control, she was an easy target. She had lost all sense of direction. years and years down in the deep deep dark had taken it from her. The thorny bush was now a forest upon her back, with only the illusion of sunlight.


Finally, the fateful day arrived when the abyss would collapse around her. The day when she would dismantle her tower and with her bare hands throw every single rock and stone far from her. When she would rip up the very foundations and destroy them. Six years of hell she would destroy.


And all the while they stood in the dark, watching, waiting, knowing.


When the words of a stranger came to her upon the cold light of day, it was to send her spiraling, but not out of control, rather into control. She had been at the bottom so long, she was resigned to what she thought was simply the end. This moment was as shocking as when a child is forced from the warmth of its mothers womb into the cold vicious world.


The words of a stranger became a bright white light in the dark. She stepped through and ripped her very existence to pieces. And in the dawn of a new day, in the murky light she began to see the way out, felt hope.


It took her months to shake off the deep dirty darkness. To throw off the illusions that had spun around her. To clear all the rumble and begin with a clear canvas.


Hardest of all was to free her mind. To forget all that she thought she had learnt and to once again remember all that she really knew. Yet, once she began to look, it seemed everywhere there were reminders of what she had forgotten. Without the clutter, without the mess, without the stress, she found herself and she loved what she found.


She was no longer afraid.


No longer did she hide from mirrors, did she hunch, did she bow her eyes. Her head is held high, her shoulders back, her eyes full of life and the power that can only come from one whom has been into the darkness and come out the other side.


And with the power flowing through her veins, feeling like she was on fire the voices came again. And this time she acknowledged them and answered, awestruck as always that not only could they reach her, but that they bothered to find her.


And so it is that she has resurfaced into the dark of day, come to see what new things await her. Come to see what the weird kids are doing on the block. Come again to play.


~ MJ

 

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