*sigh* the night.... :)

“I know the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different, that the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist, and the night can be a dreadful time for lonely people once their loneliness has started.” Hemingway
************************************************************************************
What is it about the night that seems to scare us so? As children, my brother and I were always afraid of the dark, cherishing our night-light as if it were made of pure gold. The worst threat our parents could lay upon us when we didn't honor bedtime was to threaten to take away the light; thoughts of the ensuing darkness terrified us into obedience (usually, that is, there were a couple of occasions where we faced the darkness). Though I have left the night-light behind, these fears, in other ways, still linger.

Darkness itself is used in a variety of metaphors and symbols, most often pertaining to something bad, scary, evil, or challenging. When someone is going through a "dark time," we know they are wrestling with some sort of difficulty in their life. Often, odd shapes and noises that kick up the adrenaline at night, in the dark, show themselves as harmless coat-racks or furnaces once the light is turned on; we laugh at our foolishness and go back to bed. But is it so foolish? Should we view things in the light the same way we do during the night? I'm not sure.

When I find myself surrounded by darkness and I know that the night won't be ending anytime soon, I face a couple of options. I can act as if nothing is even wrong, go on with life as usual, and smile to those around me to keep their lives, and mine, more simple. In my experience this has proven to be nothing but destructive in the end; nothing gets resolved, I become a shell of a person, I have no energy for truly valuable things because it is all spent on maintaining the facade, and those I care about not only don't truly know me, but I deny them the chance to be my friend. The other option is to allow myself to experience whatever it is I'm going through, whatever it may be: grief, loss, confusion, loneliness, fear, anger, place anything you like here. This, for me at least, is difficult to do, because I have been taught to stay strong, don't make life difficult for those around you, and to just get over it as quickly and quietly as possible. Sometimes, to search for whatever I need, I need to wallow. I need to be pouty and self-absorbed. I'm not saying make life miserable for those around you, that's not nececcary; but I am saying to allow myself to completely experience my emotions and feelings, no matter what they are, to push through the awkwardness until I can get to the other side to see what God is doing, that is awesome. This sounds crazy, but it's not easy being "depressed." I avoid it, I can feel it coming, building; but there's a point where it needs to be faced.

It's in the midst of this "night" where the innocent coat-racks can suddenly become intruders or aliens or ghosts (whatever creeps you out) and all of a sudden instinct and pure emotion run the show. We do the best we can, we work through it and deal with it in the only way we know how. Often it seems absurd, unjustified, childish or even selfish to anyone on the outside looking in; what is to be done about this? I don't know. Perhaps apologize, perhaps warn them, perhaps nothing. Where does this feeling come from, this sense that we must constantly apologize to others for the way in which we deal with our struggles? Why is someone who is suffering made to feel as if they must constantly justify the fact that they really are suffering? Isn't the fact that they feel like they're suffering enough for us to show compassion, share love, and extend a helping hand? That's a lot of questions, to which I have no firm answers; the "answers" may be different for every person.

One thing I do know is that once the night ends, and a new day dawns, all that happened in the darkness suddenly seems to take on a foreign appearance. Even the one who went through the night, who experienced the grief or pain or whatever, even they will look back with questioning eyes. As Mr. Hemingway so eloquently stated, "the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist;" when standing in the daylight, I find it nearly impossible to explain what happened during the night. The feelings and emotions that drove me through that night, that point of view, are gone, and the same perspective cannot be achieved in the daytime. When questioned about why I did a particular thing, my reply is often an honest "I don't know."

This is why, I think at least for me, I sometimes find myself stammering for the right words when attempting to describe some past experience to a friend. How can I put words to something that I went through in the past that will truly capture what I was experiencing at the time? In a way, I can't; for I myself may not understand anymore. I'm left feeling confused and sometimes a bit embarressed at my apparent inability to properly express myself!

Bottom line: I don't think we should be so quick to try and force people out of their "funk." I don't think we should second-guess what a person says they're feeling or experiencing and automatically try to "fix" them. I do think we should love, enncourage and pray for them. I think we should let them know we're there for them, but then give them the credit to work through it themselves.

One last thought: I've come to love the night in many ways, it's the best time to see the stars ;)