Using Light to Sleep

I didn’t sleep much last night. I remember having dreams. I don’t recall exact details, but they were uncomfortable. I felt out of sorts when my eyes slowly opened at 4:23 a.m., like I was supposed to do something, say something, go somewhere, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t move for about 90 seconds. I laid there trying to identify the goings-on of my spirit. Nothing. I was just numb. I finally rolled over trying to recall why a sheer blanket of sadness slung over me like examining room gown – there, but not there. Nothing came to mind. I then, against my better judgment, picked up my iPhone and began to scan random posts on various social media sites. A lot was shared while I slumbered. The sadness grew. The hopelessness appeared. There it was. It wasn’t my dreams I was trying to escape; it was the cycle of hate (disconnect) that currently swirls in the universe. You can’t escape it. It’s here, and it’s smothering me.

While attempting to ignore it - all of the negative events, thoughts, and feelings that the political scene (or our response to it) has uncovered - or avoid it by thinking happier thoughts, I just pushed it all under my heart in hopes that it would melt away. It didn’t. Now I’m forced to deal with it. Every day. Every time I hear about, read, or see an article or news story discussing another racist, misogynistic, sexist, hate-filled incident, I’m going to feel this. This darkness. I wish I could get angry or mad. It seems as if people feel better when they get mad because the get to vent, through a plate at wall, stomp their feet in their living rooms, and then it’s out of their system (at least temporarily). That doesn’t work for me. I’m not mad or angry; I’m sad. I feel wounded. Was I punctured in my sleep, and this gloomy feeling, slowly, deliberately seeped in? I’m functioning, of course. I have to, but this feeling is always draped over my shoulders reminding me of the world’s events. Writing more will help me cope, I suppose. Escaping, by diving head first into a story, helps. Reading or recalling poetry, scripture, or quotes have provided much relief as of late. They heal. They sooth. They penetrate, and I’m grateful.

“Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.” ― Jalaluddin Rumi

While I type this, I recall advice regarding how to deal with ”darkness,” or the feeling of being overwhelmed, shared by Dr. Joy DeGruy, writer of Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome, after a discussion she facilitated at a friend’s home.  She said, and I’m paraphrasing:

• Leave room (in your heart) for forgiveness and reconciliation.  You never know when that space or the use of it can heal others.
• It’s always darkest before the light, so don’t worry so much about the darkness. In other words, this too shall pass.
• Surround yourself with people who share your “light.” We’ll need each other. We’ll comfort and guide each other.
• Determine how you can help institute positive change and do it.

Those instructions are becoming the marching orders needed to center myself – to be the hopeful, optimistic me again. (I miss her. I need that version of me.)

Later, I read the following passage to remind myself that we all are fallible and need “room” at some point or another:

“Be in perfect unity. Never become angry with one another… Love the creatures for the sake of God and not for themselves. You will never become angry or impatient if you love them for the sake of God. Humanity is not perfect. There are imperfections in every human being, and you will always become unhappy if you look toward the people themselves. But if you look toward God, you will love them and be kind to them, for the world of God is the world of perfection and complete mercy." - ‘Abdu’l-Bahá

No, I’m not there yet. Being told every day in some small way that I am, as a Black women, less than, intentionally or intentionally, requires much more discipline than I have. I’m trying though. I remember that “it’s not what I’m called, but what I answer to,” that matters. It also doesn’t mean that I should just stand idly by when negativity (disconnection) is tossed around like pizza dough. I can stop it or, at least, slow it down. I just have to choose my battles…and my weapons. Today, my weapon of choice is words – words of encouragement, unity, love, and understanding. Tomorrow, it could be my feet for marching, my voice for stating facts that counter rumors or ignorance, my knees for prayer, money to support a cause doing the work, or whatever else is needed at the time.




If you’re feeling like me, I’m sorry. It definitely lingers, but you’re not alone. Choose a weapon and take it one moment at a time. I realize that's all I can do too. I hope to sleep peacefully tonight. I'll just have to leave my "light" on.