There is darkness in this world too deep and too impenetrable to conquer – a darkness like that of the deepest chasms of the ocean, hidden and obscured beneath tons of pressure, miles of water, untold and uncountable layers of life and death. It’s a darkness that some of us feel more than others, a place that only a few of us can access, and despite our wishes we don’t have much choice in the matter. Why some of us can whisper and engage with this darkness is the stuff of psychology and witchcraft and astrology – anything to make some sense of it, because it’s not meant to make sense, not if we’re the slightest bit cognizant of what is true and what should be just in this wild world.
We seek sanctuary against this darkness, the way we seek a greenhouse in the winter. Maybe it’s in a candle. Maybe it’s in a song. Maybe it’s in a treasured trove of beauty where water trickles from a fountain and beauty is found beneath the frond of a palm tree or a tree fern, newly-watered and smelling of warm earth. A precious place of solace and semi-solitude, where only beautiful things happen – the earthly pleasures and delights our only balm in such a horrendous world.
And so I seek out those spaces and moments, those little sanctuaries that help us through the dark.
