Right now, my empathic sense is overwhelmed with palpable negativity. So many people in my neck of the woods (America) are almost frozen in time and space. Inconsolable fear, anger, and misery wash over me almost everywhere I go. It’s hard to meditate and pray with such mental and emotional anguish filling the air like the smoke and soot from the massive California wildfires.

 

By David Jones

Back in Middle School, my mom and I went on a cave tour where you walked for a while, came to a railing with a sign telling you not to go any farther, and after a presentation the guide let us know she’s going to turn off the lights.

And when she did, it was incredible.

I’d never experienced that level of dark before. My eyes tried desperately to find even a pinprick of light. It seemed to get colder, and it felt alarming. When the lights came back on, everyone sighed with relief.

We crave light.

At the end of his life, Buddha encouraged his followers to be lights unto themselves because his light was about to go out and there was still plenty of path they needed to walk.

Jesus taught that we don’t restrict our light by hiding it under a basket, but we keep the space open so that the light benefits everyone in the house. He also warned that if our inner light instead becomes darkness, it will be overwhelming.

The Dharma is likened to a finger pointing at the moon. But what’s the point of having a moon visible in the night sky if not to provide illumination?

It’s a beacon in a sea of darkness. The stars are too, and these lights have allowed humans to navigate the world come nightfall. Indeed, the Jewish Creation myth shows the universe being nothing but darkness until the creator intentionally said, “Let there be light.”

Sometimes it’s so dark it seems all-consuming. In times of great emotional distress it can be difficult, if not impossible, to discern any light at all.

Right now, my empathic sense is overwhelmed with palpable negativity. So many people in my neck of the woods (America) are almost frozen in time and space. Inconsolable fear, anger, and misery wash over me almost everywhere I go. It’s hard to meditate and pray with such mental and emotional anguish filling the air like the smoke and soot from the massive California wildfires. I have to work harder to maintain balance and not be dragged down too.

So what can we do when it seems you’re living in total darkness? Well, be a light. Be a light for yourself, and also be a light for others. Even lost in the dark you can be a light, a beacon of hope and peace.

So here are a few thoughts I’d like to share, both to relieve some darkness now and maybe in the future:

1. Point to the light. When storms obscure the sea and land equally, there’s joy when a lookout sees the faint beam of the lighthouse through the mist and gloom. There are huge examples of good in the world every day. Share a couple with others distressed by a shadowy night.

2. Don’t keep pointing out the dark. When it’s really dark, does it help anyone to keep reminding everyone?  This means not constantly sharing distressing reports. Sure it’s good to be informed, but not obsessively so. I know misery loves company, but that doesn’t mean we should keep pulling others into the pit with us.

3. Remember the impermanence of all phenomena. Things were great, and now they suck. Eventually they won’t. Then later they will again. By accepting that tides roll in as well as out, you’re less likely to cling to any one moment.

4. Try not to cling to suffering. Some folks become addicted to the savage pains. They revel in every grim piece of outrage. But be wise about your pain. If you scalded your arm, why would you want to keep pressing hot metal against the burn?

5. Protect yourself. Do what you can to resist the urge to doomscroll or wallow in miserable news reports. Whether news or food, vary your diet. You are what you eat, so don’t just binge negativity.

6. Don’t react thoughtlessly against others whom you see as the cause of the darkness. Desires of revenge and payback do nothing but further obscure what light there is. Understandable, but not healthy.

7. Try to be patient. A disturbed pond needs time to return to peace. Demanding it happen faster is understandable, but impatience worsens suffering.

8. Don’t play into provocation. Your anger lines others’ pockets. Online trolls want to make you mad, possibly because they crave power and control over others. Don’t counter-argue. Walk away. Even if you cant do much, at least don’t make things worse for yourself.

9. Demonstrate being a light. It’s hard, but it’s worth it. How will people know any better way to behave unless we’re prepared to model the way of light? And I’m not talking about the light of truth here – those arguments are endless – but the light of compassion, generosity, humility, and decent human nature.

10. Find decent and effective outlets for your anguish. Arguing online is not it. I’ll repeat that: arguing online is not it. Posting endless grievances online may get you likes and validate your unhappiness, but it’s unlikely to promote helpful change, nor improve anyone’s mental and emotional health.

11. Finally: you have to want to be a light. Not everyone does; some prefer being reflectors of darkness. That’s why it’s so much more important for light bearers to choose to shine.

In the end, I can’t tell you what to do, nor would I want to. But I don’t want people falling to despair. I know it’s easy to drown in worry; no one in the history of ever needed to tell a Virgo like me they aren’t worrying enough. But as I worry, I’m determined to try and be a light, however tiny.

I hope Buddha and Jesus would approve.

Be well
Photo: Pixabay

Editor: Dana Gornall

 

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