This comimg Monday I have an appointment with Father Charlie, who has gone from being my spiritual director to my counselor. Two weeks ago I took him a copy of my Advent Prayer. We discussed the nitty gritty specifics of the darkness within me. I spoke outloud the sin in my life that I have skirted around for so long. There was no accompanying panic, no urge to hide. It simply felt like I was saying, "Here I am in all my humanity." Incredibly, I left the session filled with much hope. Two weeks later it's still there. The hope I mean. The darkness, a lighter shade of grey. The shade it turns when Light shines on it. That sounded corny to my ears even as I typed it, yet I can't help but be overwhelmed by the grace that is greater than any sin. The scripture "Mercy triumphs over judgement." is a balm of sweetness to my ears.
This is a different season in my life. It's the first December since I've lived in the north when I haven't dreaded the encroaching darkness. By this time next week we will be past the day when we see but a scant 6 to 7 hours of daylight. I can't seem to muster up the sinking feeling which has come unbidden every year in the past as that day presents itself. For once I am okay being in this season instead of wishing away the hours waiting for the next one. I haven't been straining and searching for the coming of the light so I could wave goodbye to the darkness. I hesitate to say that darkness has its place, yet we all have a shadow side. We all have things we could write on a post card and send to Post Secret.
That warm and red egg shaped symbol is still cropping up in my prayers, thoughts and reflections. I don't know what it means. The tightly wound spring that appeared in the middle of it seems to have unwound itself.
I have no idea what my session on Monday is going to be like. I think for the first time I will go with no printed out blog post to share. When I first went to Al-Anon nearly 18 years ago, I took my newborn baby with me more as a security blanket than anything. I have a hunch that sharing my blog posts with Father Charlie has two edges to it. I do want him to know that this is who I am but the posts have also been a bit of a security blanket for me too. By sharing specific posts I felt like I was a bit more in control of the sessions.
I'm 43 years old. At last it feels good to be me.