Yesterday I was having a cup of tea with a friend who said “The light is coming back, but this is the remainder of the dark time.” She said this like the darkness was something to be treasured.
Sometimes, in Seattle, in January, it is hard to treasure the darkness. Everything outside feels so still. I can want spring. I can want change. Let’s go! But down by the creek, it doesn’t feel like much is changing. The frost at the bottom of the meadow melts or doesn’t melt. The moss grows a little greener or less. All is dark branches and pearly sky and brittle, thorny stems and mud.
And in my life there also is a stillness. A waiting. I keep trying to reach out of it, though. The friend who said that about the darkness is also my job search buddy. We meet a couple mornings a week at the coffee shop. We check in, work side by side, remind each other to keep moving, even in the midst of uncertainty....
Keep moving, but surrender to uncertainty…
Surrender, but keep moving.
It’s fucking confusing.
I know this is how things work though. For fuck’s sake, this was the whole point of last year’s myth, and I got it, okay?
But I think maybe the keep moving part doesn’t look like my French press full of very, very strong coffee would have me believe first thing in the morning. Man, when that caffeine is punching through my system, keep moving feels like “Send out twenty resumes today!! Master LinkedIn! Go! Go! Go!”
But I don’t think this is what keep moving looks like this time of year. I think now is when I get to root deeply into what I believe and move from that.
I’ve started reading Evangeline Walton’s v of The Legend of Rhiannon, the Welsh myth that is this year’s roadmap for change. Hers is called “The Mabinogian Tetralogy.”
It begins with this sentence:
“That day Pwyll, Prince of Dyved, who though he was going out to hunt, was in reality going out to be hunted, and by no beast or man of earth.”
I feel that now. That I am not entirely in charge of the call, or the pace. And I am thankful that my man Pwyll is a good hero, in the sense that he doesn’t phone it in. I’m only on chapter four but already, I really like this guy. He has honor. He is willing to surrender himself to the call. And he summons the courage to face darkness that is unbearable in it’s depth. This is going to serve him later when he is the lucky guy who gets with the golden-light, faery-queen, goddess-of-the-land Rhiannon. But from the first, he needs that courage. Because, it turns out, the one who has summoned him to the aforementioned hunt is the Lord of Death: Arawn. Pwyll faces Arawn’s dark eyes and…
“Through their shining blackness cold seemed to stream through his blood and bones. Knowledge streamed with it, knowledge that he could neither understand nor keep. His brain reeled away from that awful wisdom, that poured into it as into a cup, and overturned it, and was spilled again.”
Makes job searching look easy, right?