I can’t get over how much this snippet from one of Charles Darwin’s letters resonated with me when I read it.
“I am very poorly today & very stupid & hate everybody & everything.”
Dude, same. (sometimes)
My initial foray into exploring spirituality – which began with learning about karma, reincarnation, and soul lessons – alleviated some of this daily suffering. For me, this framework provided a useful reframing of life’s events during a dark night of the soul, flipping the thought of, “Why is this happening to me?” into “What should I be learning from this?” (because the goal is to learn and evolve, allegedly). Going from a worldview of, ‘The universe is meaningless,’ to ‘Oh, it’s possible that I planned some of my life this way,’ is comforting at first. It becomes this cute little exercise you do every time something arises. It gives meaning to the life events that cause suffering – especially during a dark night when everything looks bleak. I still use this all the time and it’s surprisingly comforting… even if I’m begrudgingly asking the question (which I usually am) about what I should be learning.
At first, it’s enjoyable to take this new mode of being out for a test drive in the world. You begin to think, “Ohhh, that’s why spiritual people seem so annoyingly happy!”
But if you thought that’s it, that the dark night of the soul that brought you to the new beliefs/worldview is over, oh buddy. Buckle up. The ride hasn’t even started.
The dark night of the soul and the spiritual path (if done correctly) is not only a path where you might flip a worldview, but it’s also a path of healing your trauma and reconnecting with your true self. This is what people mean when they utter the irritating phrase, “I’m on a healing journey.” Although many of us want to roll our eyes at such a statement (and I definitely have), it’s an act of courage to undertake this daunting task because doing deep healing work to find your true self is much harder than it sounds. Society does a good job of telling us who we are or who we should be from the second we’re born (e.g. men don’t cry, women shouldn’t speak up, etc). Undoing that damage takes tenacity.
And you know what’s really f*cked up? Western culture doesn’t recognize this process at all, much less provide support structures for it. Or even language to describe it. People might understand, and even offer some compassion, if you say, “I’m going through a dark night of the soul.” But how can you convey to someone that you’re doing deep psychological and spiritual work to clear out beliefs and behaviors that you don’t want to embody anymore — especially when this is not on the radar of the majority of the population? Try telling that to your co-workers and see what happens.
In response, you might hear something like, “Wow. That sounds challenging and unpleasant. Why would you do that?” Because, friend: “You know that underlying sense of anxiety, sadness, and doom that is the background soundtrack to your life? It’s partly caused by past trauma, but also by internal conflicts between who you are and who you’re acting like (bc of society). And it turns out you can resolve that and bring peace into your life this way.” They probably won’t know what youre talking about, some awkwardness will ensue, and maybe they’ll politely nod their head before quickly shuffling off.
Very few people who have not gone through something similar can understand how this type of healing can affect you. It takes deconstructing yourself to reconstruct yourself. And it ain’t pretty. You can feel destabilized, lonely, exhausted, and defeated. Once you’ve shed the inauthentic identity you’ve been wearing your whole life, it takes more work to uncover your true identity (which, to me, is answering the question, “What truly lights up my soul?”). And each piece of the uncovered true self requires integration (this will be an entirely separate post). Trying to rewire your brain and nervous system with new beliefs and ways of being can cause massive internal tension that is difficult to verbalize. Most of the time you don’t have the energy to verbalize, anyway, even if you could find the words. And yes, I’m speaking from personal experience.
Unfortunately, as you enter your cocoon era, the rest of the world marches on. Invitations keep rolling in. Responsibilities pile up. The inability to express what you’re going through and what you need only adds to the strain and frustration. You begin to wonder if it would be acceptable to drop your phone into the nearest body of water and escape to the mountains until you can rise from the ashes.
When trying to communicate about this temporary state to others, there’s no mental health or disease name that you can easily drop. There’s no disability claim you can submit at work. It would be easier to just say you have depression, but of course that isn’t accurate because you’re going through the darkness to find the light, not stay in it.
This kind of self-transformation is truly a death and rebirth. Like a real death, the people going through it need understanding, compassion, space, and support. Our culture provides none of that. No acknowledgment, nurturing, or encouragement. In the West, there is no rest, time for reflection, practices for integration, community support, public policy, or financial support for this life phase. (I mean, are we even surprised when there isn’t support for other life phases like parenthood (in America)?)
Self-transformation is a rite of passage and an initiation into the mysteries of life. Connecting to your true self resolves many of the internal conflicts most of us unconsciously carry around.
I’m trying out this new thing where instead of just complaining about the way certain things are, I imagine a new way. So, for fun, let’s imagine a new world:
The West revolutionizes its understanding of self-transformation, and the critical role it plays in helping people improve their well-being and realize their full potential. Society-wide changes are ignited. In order to provide useful language for communicating with others about this life phase, and to avoid pathologization, the phrase, “I’m in my Phoenix phase (or ‘Phoenix era,’ if a T.Swift fan),” emerges in the zeitgeist (inspired by the mythology of the immortal Phoenix that cyclically dies in flames only to rise from its ashes renewed). Everyone knows what this means – this person needs space and support. They’re undergoing a deep personal change, a becoming. They claim Phoenix coverage at work, which covers up to six months of paid leave (if they need it). The Phoenix can turn to one of the many organizations that have been set up to support self-transformation, the dark night, and the deconstruction of the old identity. In these Heroic Communities* they find community, trained guides, financial support, and mental/somatic/spiritual practices to help them land gracefully. Suffering is reduced, well-being skyrockets, transformation timelines are shortened, human potential becomes exponential.
*Richard Tarnas describes the role of Heroic Learning Communities in the postmodern era as spaces to help identify a source of meaning and purpose to carry us into a new reality.
The mythology of every culture honors this sacred journey, yet the West relegates this topic to the ‘self-help’ aisle of bookstores. I can’t prove it, but I sense a reckoning is coming. Or maybe, as Richard Tarnas argues, it’s already here.
This blog was originally posted on Cosmos, Coffee, & Consciousness