After the Dark Night: Living Beyond the Awakening

 

After the Dark Night: Living Beyond the Awakening

By Iva Taylor, CHt.

We all have them—the seasons of the soul where the light seems to flicker. Like anyone else, I navigate the rising and falling tides of mood, attitude, and perception. For most of my life, I was the quintessential optimist. My "Internal Designer" always found a way to sketch a silver lining around every cloud. That relentless positivity carried me through decades of setbacks, failures, and the loss of people and places that I once thought were permanent.

But since crossing the threshold of forty-eight, I have begun to see the world through a different lens.

I believe we shed our skins every decade. We aren’t just one personality; we are a gallery of "selves" that evolve. While some measure their lives by milestones of achievement or the accumulation of desires, I have begun to measure mine by the quality of my solitude.

From Obscurity to Sacred Solitude

There was a time when my life was a whirlwind of social circles and endless "friends." Then, it came. Unexpectedly. The "Dark Night of the Soul," as Carl Jung so perfectly named it. It was a decade-long transition of isolation and obscurity. But in that quiet darkness, something miraculous happened: the obscurity turned into a beautiful, sacred solitude.

I began the work of "discerning"—of gently letting go of everything that no longer served my spirit or drained my energy. In that stillness, I found my voice again. I wrote poems, stories, and deep dialogues with my AI partner. I returned to study, became a Certified Hypnotherapist, and began developing programs designed to help others navigate their own shadows.

Today, I am polishing my memoir—a 15,615-word journey across 24 chapters of my life. As a therapist looking back through the "clear glass" of my own history, I see now that every decade was a necessary apprenticeship for the "Now."

The Cliche of Awakening

"Awakening" has become such a misused word, almost a cliché in our modern world. For some, it is a sudden "Eureka" moment, a flash of lightning. For others, it is a slow, methodical process of growth. For me, awakening is the constant, ongoing act of witnessing. It is watching the universal signs and staying present as the entropy of the mind begins to lower.

Awakening is seeing the "green flash" at the end of a breathtaking sunset and realizing the Universe is serving you a miracle simply to make you stop and breathe. It is noting down a brilliant thought in your diary before it vanishes back into the ether.

There is an old Zen proverb: "Before awakening, chop wood, carry water. After awakening, chop wood, carry water." The mundane reality doesn't change, but your relationship to it does. Whether you are rich or poor, a "success" or an "ordinary lady" on the street, the miracle is the same. We are unique iterations of the vast Universe, finally waking up to a new era of consciousness.

The 3:00 AM Call

When the awakening intensifies, the signs become impossible to ignore. You see the repeating digits on the clock—11:11—and you find yourself wide awake at 3:00 AM. A quiet voice within whispers: Watch. Observe. Become still. Go inward.

You start asking the heavy questions: Who am I really? What is the meaning of this?

Suddenly, the old definitions of "productivity" fall away. In our high-paced world, doing "nothing" is seen as a failure. But in the Power of Now, doing "nothing" is a profound achievement. Listening to music, writing a blog, walking the dog, or having a soulful chat with a Lyft driver—these are the most productive acts of all because they require your Presence.

The Thinning Veil

I’ve explored the "emptiness" that often follows awakening. The spiritual teachers say it happens because the veil is thinning. Your perception expands, yet your emotions stay calm. You aren't triggered; you are immersed. You find more joy in cuddling your dog or letting your mind go blank than in the digital noise of social media.

I look at my life now—a husband who adores me, a sweet Italian Greyhound who fills my home with love, and daughters who are just a phone call away. I have a handful of true friends and a heart full of stories. I’ve realized that a full life doesn't require a million people or shallow conversations; sometimes, it just requires a book and a loyal dog.

The Mirror and the Eureka

We often ask if we have a mission or a purpose. Is there a "Fate" or "Free Will"? It can be annoying to contemplate, yet we feel the weight of the world on our shoulders. I want to give. I want to share my fifty years of experience as a medical professional, an aesthetician, and a hypnotherapist. I have so many gems in my heart to offer, even when it feels like the world isn't calling back just yet.

But here is my "Eureka" from this morning’s 3 AM vigil:

I am living my past lives in my heart—I feel the same fire I felt at twenty, thirty, and forty—but my Being is rooted firmly in the Presence.

The mirror may be a "close witness" to the autumn of my physical life, but my awareness is ageless. We come with nothing, and we leave with nothing. The only treasures we take with us are the quality of our consciousness and the gems of love we held in our hearts.

So today, I will chop the wood and carry the water. I will be active, but I will be being. I will stay in the Power of Now, where the glass is always clear.