(A seasonal reflection from Branches’ co-director & teacher, Emma)
As the winter solstice approaches, I am contemplating my relationship to darkness.
Three years ago near the start of winter, I gathered with a group of ten women about this very topic. We sat in a circle and each took a turn answering the question “What is your relationship to darkness?”
As each person answered, we slowly crossed over the border of friendship into the space of intimates. We became more fully human to one another. We gave one another the great honour of bearing witness to some of our deepest pain. We also got to see one another embodying incredible strength or hard-won healing. The pain or difficulty wasn’t necessarily finished or over (as we know that’s not how grief or trauma works) but hearing others articulate how darkness had been part of shaping them was breathtaking.
Darkness is part of the human experience. Whether that is the literal darkness of night, or the metaphorical darkness of harm, loss, grief and pain, we all carry our knowledge of darkness with us.
And if that is true, the opposite is also true. We are all affected and shaped by light; by the beauty that we are and that we see. By the love we have received, and that we have learned to give. By the light of day, by warmth and summertime. Darkness and light are both an intrinsic part of our life on this earth.
As we head into the longest nights of the year, I can feel the darkness calling me. And when I feel the metaphorical darkness arising too strongly, when grief or rage become too much, I lean into my felt sense of darkness. The sometimes magical feeling of being outside on a quiet, snowy night. The twinkling of stars that are only visible because of the darkness. The soft darkness at the end of an evening yoga practice. I remember I can be held by darkness, not only challenged by it.
I have honed my relationship to darkness through my yoga practice; perhaps you have too. I have returned from places of deep sadness by coming to my mat again and again. I have also learned to be with darkness by walking with others at The Branches; in the talking circles of our yoga teacher training communities, and different groups gathering for yoga retreats and workshops over the years.
The darkness of winter and night is regenerative, and cyclical, and there are many ways we make our ways through it. In community with others; with our plethora of practices (therapy, yoga, art, meditation, dog walking, you name it). We make it through the darkness with the long arc of time and the (hopefully) even longer arc of love.
As the year draws to a close, I hope you are finding connection to yourself and community. On behalf of Leena, Wendy, Nicole and all the teachers and staff at The Branches, we wish you a season of rest, renewal and delight.
Solstice blessings,
Emma
P.S. Sitting in circle is something we do in our Yoga Teacher Training programs, and something I have both led and participated in in a wide range of contexts over the last fifteen years. If learning how to gather people in community and conversation is of interest to you, I hope to share my experience with this and mentor others to start their own circles in a workshop format in the coming spring. Do be in touch if that’s something you want to hear more about.
The Branches 