36: Darkening of the Light

“When the light goes down, it may be wise to become invisible. Imagine fresh darkness, the period just after sunset or after a fire has gone out. There is still much activity left over from the light of day, and movements in the outer world are at their most dangerous. Even the smallest sound, the faintest glow of light, can attract unwanted attention now.

When the darkness of stupidity reigns in human affairs, it is best to keep your brilliance “hidden under a bushel basket.” Let your thoughts and efforts be quiet, self-contained, and protected, as much as possible, from harmful influences.

Don’t let yourself be swept along on the current of conventional wisdom when too many dangerous uncertainties exist. Try not to become too depressed or anxious; this period, too, shall pass. Just endure it for now and preserve your self-confidence, while remaining cooperative and flexible. The time to assert yourself will come. Avoid looking too far ahead if you have not yet achieved your goals—that will only stimulate feelings of regret or longing, eating away your inner strength.

Now is the time to be cautious and reserved. Control yourself. Do not needlessly stimulate forces of opposition. During dark, unsettled periods, it is best to step gingerly around the sleeping dogs.”

The Darkening of the Light began with the shocking turn of events and divorce from Richard in 2014, a couple of years prior to the move to Oregon. The first year after the divorce I was in shock, living in the basement, or “womb”, of my mother’s house in Golden where I had finished the last few years of my childhood. Ironically, my mother and her new (old) beau, Pete, were behaving like teenagers, and I felt like the mother and certainly the third wheel. I remember the first few months through the winter, sleeping often 16 hours each night. I’d felt when the final event in the marriage made it clear that I needed to step out, and I was finally willing, that my cells in my body were disintegrating. I had found myself in a twisted mess crumpled on the floor, sobbing, cells disintegrating, as the fierce energy emerged from the man I loved as my husband, and was suddenly fierce and unrecognizable. Through that first winter in the womb of my mother’s house, I spent many hours and days feeling my cells being reinfused with my spirit, as I awakened each morning. There was also a sensation of each day exploring a parallel reality, as if my soul was searching for the correct paradigm for our next exploration.

The second year I grieved the loss of what I thought was an amazing resonant connection with a wonderful person. It was a resonant connection for the time it was meant to be a resonant connection, and I came to terms with the fact that our contract was complete, as he had other contracts to fulfill, which left me to contemplate moving forward into my own new contracts with fellow earth travelers.

The third year I moved to Oregon, following a decades’ long dream as I felt the time was right with children grown and no longer tethered to Colorado. In fact, needing a break from Colorado, into the healing balm of coastal living.

I left all spiritual aspects of my practice behind, except for the personal inquiry of the I Ching. I moved to a place where no one knew me. I moved there by myself. No one knew I had taught ascension classes. No one knew I practiced esoteric acupuncture for accessing higher conscious awareness. No one knew I was a Reiki Master-Teacher. Absolutely no one knew I carried around a Quantum Resonance Crystal Therapy Bed. No one knew I was an enlightened being. I had moved to the Southern Oregon Coast as a pharmacist transferred from a Littleton, CO Walmart to the Coos Bay, OR Walmart.

The Light, had indeed, darkened, and I had, indeed, become invisible.