Monday Musing: Glimmers in the Shadow
shadow season is upon us
Wow wow wow, honey chile.
It’s been a long time.. I shouldn’t’a left you, without a dope beat to step to…
My therapist lowkey warned me about this. I’ve been on the up and up. New environment, new goals, new interests, who dis? A proverbial peak, in the valley that has been most of 2024. In the month of October, I felt myself Mariah-Carey-back-sliding right back down the mountain that I had been standing on top of since I made the move to Princeton.
Such are the ebbs and flows, the peaks and valleys of life.
I didn’t even try to stop it. Rather, I gave a long negro-spiritual-sigh and thought to myself, here we go again, girl.
Nah, I wasn’t trippin’ because this time, a bitch has tools.
For the last couple of years, I have liked to do a cleanse that was taught to me by the healers and practitioners who were a part of and adjacent to a community formation called Urban Attabex in the Bronx. The first year I did it with a small group, and we were led by a community leader in a 13-week healing workshop, whereby we released, week by week, food items and groups like meat and dairy, then sugar, then grains, then cooked foods, and by the last week and a half, food altogether. (As well as, drugs and alcohol, caffeine, even sex) I am witness when I say that shit would’ve been impossible without community accompaniment. The goal of the cleanse was not losing weight or clearing up your skin or superficial “benefits” that commercial dieting fads promise or even denial.
What I became clear about was that the things I consume — and that we consume as a community and culture — can either support or detract from my ability to hear from Spirit/God, and by extension see myself clearly. The things I consume have spiritual resonance, and in accordance with the Fall season, invited me into a slowing down, contemplation, and a reassessing of my relationship with my body and spirit.
It makes sense: when one takes in less food or different foods from what one normally consumes, when one consciously sets aside the substances one uses to cope with the world — be that sugar, caffeine, THC, etc — 1) you are forced to move slower; the body isn’t getting the fuel that it’s used to 2) all that shit you’ve been trying to stuff away in the name of being productive or likeable or whatever begins to bubble to the surface.
I had a terrible caffeine withdrawl headache for the first week. I was irritable. And it seemed like I couldn’t get enough sleep. There were definitely moments when I was not a happy camper.
And I got to sit in what it felt like for that to be okay.
Behold, the dark season is upon us.
Every year my mother would remind my brother and I, when we were kids, “the days get shorter, and the night gets longer around this time of year.” My mother would offer this reminder as a means of orienting my brother and I to our schedule. Ms. Collins ran a tight ship. Almost every moment of our days growing up was meticulously timed out to keep accomodate Mom’s schedule with her students and at the hospital and our school schedule and extracuricular activities. As we got older, she transferred the responsibility of time keeping to us. Just because the seasons were changing didn’t necessarily give us a pass to get lax about our responsibilities and obligations.
Now, as an adult, her reminder holds a different resonance.
At the start of my time here in seminary, I was assigned a book entitled, Meditations on Creation in an Era of Extinction by Kate Rigby. And what I felt in my body — had always felt, but was taught to ignore — every year around this time and my theological perspective suddenly coalesced.
In the chapter on the Fourth Day of Creation in which God divided light from darkness, as recounted in Genesis 1, Rigby meditates on the significance of darkness:
“Given the limited public appreciation of the dangers of light pollution, it is perhaps unsurprising that there are as yet few, if any, Christian initiatives to redress this problem. I can’t help wondering, though, whether the widespread failure to protest the despoliation of the night sky might also relate to a cultural legacy of light veneration in the Christian West. The “Word,” which as we read in the poetic opening of John’s Gospel, was with God in the beginning, brought the “life” that became “the light of all people. The light light shines in the darkness, and the darkeness did not overcome it” (John 1:4-5)… As we have seen on the First Day… light did not quench the darkness, but came graciously to alternate with it… Night also holds its blessings, for the divine might be most truly encountered only in the darkness of unknowing.”
She goes on to quote an observation from an article by Anne Hayek, a member of the UCC,
In the quiet of the night, we are given a break from daytime stimulation, allowing us to focus inward and listen to our Creator’s voice. If we are fortunate enough to view it, the starry night sky against a dark backdrop offers a sense of abundance, often diminished elsewhere on our planet by human activity. If Abraham lived in a modern, light-polluted city, what would he think of God’s promise of descendants as numerous as the sky?
Last week, I laid in bed for 3 out of 5 business days. It was giving: I have fallen. And I absolutely can not get up. Real bad. Rather than try to power through it, my spirit said, Bitch, lay there.
On Thursday, though, I got some get-up-and-go about me, and went to my 8:30am class where a classmate asked me how I was doing. I took a beat, thinking to myself how true of an answer could I give in the 2 minutes before the professor officially started class. I must’ve twisted my face in thought for a moment because this young lady, who normally has the disposition of a Disney Princess, dropped her tone, looked at me with serious eyes, and asked, “Are you okay?”
I just nodded my head. “It’s just… that season,” I said.
“Yeah, I feel you” she said.
Her eyes went to the coffee cup in front of me. (Yes, I cracked and had a cup of coffee. No judgement zone, okay?)
“It’s so wild that it’s not even Halloween and everything is already Christmas themed,” commenting on the mistletoe print on the paper cup. “I feel like it’s capitalism’s way of trying to overpower the darkness with tinsel and lights.”
I smirked. “You know, I don’t think you’re wrong…”
“It’s hard for me too. I don’t like the dark. I’m a sunshine girlie.” She grinned and her dimples showed. “I’m learning to be with it too.”
This year’s cleanse is not as strict as the first one, but just as intentional.
In a nutshell, I’m just keeping to primarily fruits, veggies, and some complex carbs and grains. Very little sugar. No weed. No caffeine*.
This is feeling like a season of going in like I’ve never encountered. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so in control of my life, firmly in the driver’s seat. I get to be intentional about my eating, movement, relationships, values, and commitments. And that feels really good.
In this season that invites me/us to slow down and be with the darkness, sitting in the quiet of night allows me to be with spirit and hear God more clearly. It is less about the giving up of “unhealthy” things, but more about waiting and listening for what happens when Spirit can take up more room and guide my steps. Because as much as I feel in control, I can only see but a couple paces ahead of me.
In the dark, God whispers: Now, take that step. Do it again. And again.
Notes of Gratitude
Shared Meals at dusk
This was the culminating meal of my Theology and Ethics of Food class. Hands down, one of the best classes I’ve ever had the pleasure to take. Yes, there will be a more in-depth musing about this soon.
Movement
Relearning to trust that my body got me.
Safety
Sometimes, you don’t know you were in survival mode until you come out that bit. What a blessing to be on the other side.
What I’m Consuming
That new Tyler, the Creator: CHROMAKOPIA
Favorite Track: Sticky feat GloRilla, Sexyy Red, and Lil Wayne
My relationship with Tyler has come a long way. Not gonna lie, his Odd Future era was much for me. The teen angst was overflowing in a way that I just was not resonating with. Very chaotic.
Cherry Bomb (2015) was the turning point for me.
From an interview in Numéro:
Interviewer: In 2019, you tweeted that you would stop being funny in order for your music to be taken seriously. Although it might be an unconscious mechanism, are you afraid of self- censorship?
Tyler: ”People online tend to focus on what goes viral. It takes all their attention. If I’m doing stupid stuffs on social media, it will be more emphasized than my talent. Then, when I’ll go out for a walk, I’ll hear: “Hey, you are the guy who ate dog shit!”. I don’t want to be known for that. In 2017, I decided to stop my bullshit and make sure my music would come first. And it changed everything.”
Ericka Hart’s podcast, Hoodrat To Headwrap: A Decolonial Podcast
I’ve been a fan of Ericka Hart as a public figure for a couple years now. I love that she’s a sex educator as well as a race and gender justice educator. I like her politics. I appreciate the commentary she shares on her platforms.
Never heard of her? See her in Netflix’s Principles of Pleasure.
Closing Benediction
Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.
- Psalm 119:105