Hello Darkness My Old Friend
I’m not sure how it is
in the lives or minds of others, although I do wonder and enquire a lot. I
would love to bypass people’s conscious mind though and travel into that place
where conscious mind meets unconscious, to really see. To myself too. And I
do try. But short of that kind of technology being available just yet I will
have to suffice with asking questions and hoping for the best.
Although, the problem is that to
get a full picture on someone, or myself, one must be willing to enter that
dark zone within to give a full account. Or so I have come to believe. And I
often wonder if anyone actually exists without that darkness within. I mean, if
someone was born into idealistic circumstances — environmentally and
psychologically — would they still harbour darkness as well as light? I can
only truly know my own world and my own mind, and even then I don’t think I can
completely understand it. But more so than I can know any other, if I so
choose, that is. I suspect, however, that to be human is to harbour both
energies, both polarities of dark and light, regardless of one’s history.
Although, I think that our histories bind to our dark and light, not unlike an
alien parasite might.
My life is not complete without
intimate knowledge of, and relationship with, my darkness. And what is meant by
darkness? It’s those psychological forests that I stand at the precipice of but
feel fearful of entering, terror even. It’s that gut feeling that emerges when
an uncomfortable emotion arises, which is usually immediately responded to by a
cavalry of thoughts sent by conscious mind to guard against attack. This forest
can present itself in a myriad of ways, depending on the person: it could be being
alone, it could be the prospect of not drinking alcohol or consuming other
drugs on a regular basis, it could be uncomfortable feelings that emerge, it
could be that niggling knowing that things aren't right in one’s life, but, oh
well, if I just keep myself distracted... For some, it could be changing a job,
going to a supermarket. For others it is really getting to know one’s self, or
revisiting the trauma of their pasts in order to gain freedom from them. It’s
usually potentially seemingly terrifying.
Yet, there is a part of us that
knows, intuitively, the benefit of entering into the forest of darkness, but we
are, more often than not, only willing to do it in a simulated way, a
simulacrum of the dark forest, where we have confidence in our relative safety,
where others have tread before us and returned unscatehed, unchanged and
untransformed in any fundamental way - the rollercoaster ride, a film, travel
(generally) etcetera. These things are but an insubstantial placation to our
inner knowing, that primal need, to confront and build a relationship with the
darkness within. Of course, not always, but potentially. And I suspect this
simulacrum of living is learnt and has been passed down culturally for a long
time to the point where it is seemingly accepted as truth, reality, the way to
exist. But I liken this way of living to Plato’s philosophical problem of the
Allegory of the Cave: (copied and pasted from Wikipedia)
...
Imprisonment in the cave
Plato begins by having Socrates
ask Glaucon to imagine a cave where people have been imprisoned from childhood
(important to note that they were (based on text) imprisoned from childhood but
not from birth). These prisoners are chained so that their legs and necks are
fixed, forcing them to gaze at the wall in front of them and not look around at
the cave, each other, or themselves. Behind the prisoners is a fire, and
between the fire and the prisoners is a raised walkway with a low wall, behind
which people walk carrying objects or puppets "of men and other living things".
The people walk behind the wall so their bodies do not cast shadows for the
prisoners to see, but the objects they carry do (just as puppet showmen have
screens in front of them at which they work their puppets). The prisoners
cannot see any of what is happening behind them, they are only able to see the
shadows cast upon the cave wall in front of them. The sounds of the people
talking echo off the walls, and the prisoners believe these sounds come from
the shadows.
Socrates suggests that the shadows
are reality for the prisoners because they have never seen anything else; they
do not realise that what they see are shadows of objects in front of a fire,
much less that these objects are inspired by real things outside the cave which
they do not see.
The fire, or human made light,
and the puppets, used to make shadows, are done by the artists. This can be
compared to how illusions are made with light and sound today, with
electronics, videos, movies, and 3D visuals. Plato, however, indicates that the
fire is also the political doctrine that is taught in a nation state. The
artists use light and shadows to teach the dominant doctrines of a time and
place.
Also, few humans will ever escape
the cave. This is not some easy task, and only a true philosopher, with decades
of preparation, would be able to leave the cave, up the steep incline. Most
humans will live at the bottom of the cave, and a small few will be the major
artists that project the shadows with the use of human-made light.
Departure from the cave
Plato then supposes that one
prisoner is freed. This prisoner would look around and see the fire. The light
would hurt his eyes and make it difficult for him to see the objects casting
the shadows. If he were told that what he is seeing is real instead of the
other version of reality he sees on the wall, he would not believe it. In his
pain, Plato continues, the freed prisoner would turn away and run back to what
he is accustomed to (that is, the shadows of the carried objects). He writes
"... it would hurt his eyes, and he would escape by turning away to the
things which he was able to look at, and these he would believe to be clearer
than what was being shown to him."
Plato continues: "Suppose...
that someone should drag him... by force, up the rough ascent, the steep way
up, and never stop until he could drag him out into the light of the sun."
The prisoner would be angry and in pain, and this would only worsen when the
radiant light of the sun overwhelms his eyes and blinds him.
"Slowly, his eyes adjust to
the light of the sun. First he can only see shadows. Gradually he can see the
reflections of people and things in water and then later see the people and
things themselves. Eventually, he is able to look at the stars and moon at
night until finally he can look upon the sun itself. Only after he can look
straight at the sun "is he able to reason about it" and what it is.
Return to the cave
Plato continues, saying that the
freed prisoner would think that the world outside the cave was superior to the
world he experienced in the cave and attempt to share this with the prisoners
remaining in the cave attempting to bring them onto the journey he had just
endured; "he would bless himself for the change, and pity the other
prisoners" and would want to bring his fellow cave dwellers out of the
cave and into the sunlight.
The returning prisoner, whose
eyes have become accustomed to the sunlight, would be blind when he re-enters
the cave, just as he was when he was first exposed to the sun. The prisoners,
according to Plato, would infer from the returning man's blindness that the
journey out of the cave had harmed him and that they should not undertake a
similar journey. Plato concludes that the prisoners, if they were able, would
therefore reach out and kill anyone who attempted to drag them out of the cave.
...
...
Those people that go within, who
step outside of their caves, to confront and traverse their own wilderness, I
am in awe of. I have met and been surrounded by such people in different
contexts many times in my life. I am energised and lifted up by those people;
they support me to continue on my own journeys thanks to their courage and
willingness to confront themselves. I too am one of those people, sometimes.
I was surrounded by such a group
last weekend during an ayahuasca drinking ceremony I participated in. This
group of people came together to drink the DMT (dimethyltryptamine) based plant
medicine and surrender themselves to the plant and their deepest selves. The
plant medicine consists of the ayahuasca vine which is combined with an
“admixture” plant that also contains DMT, whose capacities are activated when
combined together. And those capacities are truly amazing, perhaps miraculous
and other worldly (possibly literally, definitely figuratively) with profound,
potentially life changing, and also confusing, confronting and sometimes
incomprehensible effects. Regardless, it takes one deeply inwards and is a very
personal journey for each participant, while all share in the unique personality
of the particular plant combination.
One never knows what one will
experience before ingesting the tea — whether a dark and horrific journey or a
playful interaction with other worldly beings, surgery by alien technologies,
ecstatic and blissful states, visions that cannot be comprehended by our
everyday minds, or it could be a combination of all of these things or other
incomprehensible and infinitely possible teachings and spaces. However, it is
thought that one will always be met with the healing or visions that they need
based on who they are when engaging with the plant.
I have participated in ayahuasca
ceremonies just twice now (consisting of drinking of four different occasions),
so I am certainly no expert and can only talk from my own experience and
research. And based on the two groups I have journeyed with, not everyone’s
trip is bound for terrifying darkness, but darkness insofar as it is their own
unknowns. And everyone responds differently to their interaction with the
plant, so it is a very personal journey, while paradoxically a shared one too.
One thing that is consistent and inviolable, however, is that once you drink
the tea you hand yourselff completely over to it and there’s nothing you can do
(to my knowledge and from my experience) to alter its trajectory, no matter how
dark and scary it gets. All one can do is attempt to surrender to it,
communicate with it, observe it and journey with it.
So many times in my life have I
been confronted with my darkness and chose to turn away, fearful of embracing
it and journeying with it to the other side of it. One thing I like...well, I
don't know that “like” is the right word, because it certainly isn’t always
necessarily pleasant...but value maybe, about the ayahuasca experience of
embracing my darkness is that once I drink the tea, I can’t turn back. Even if
my conscious, small mind begs it of me and of the plant and of the facilitator.
And it does! Or has. I have begged of both plant and facilitator to make it
stop, believe me!
During both of my ceremonies,
when the first wave of it commenced...the dropping over...intense fear overcame
me and I wanted it to stop. Desperately. My visions and sensory experience were
very dark and were now permanent to my mind. This world that I was in was
forever. It was how I imagine one’s hell to be. It is very difficult to
articulate and convey the visions one has, and I won't even try. For they are
not in any way connected to the regular world. And I learnt from the plant that
the visions are less important than the teachings and the feelings through the
dialogue one has with the plant. My visions — and visions can be auditory,
optical, olfactory, somatic, psychic and other dimensional — were reminiscent
of the horrific nightmares I used to have as a child. They too seemed permanent
and fixed. And so I battled with all of my phalanxes and armoury, everything I
could muster. But there was nothing I could do to stop it. Resignation and
eventually surrender were the things that seemingly allowed for it to be a
healing rather than an enduring, to traverse through it rather than advance my
armies into the territory of futility. Once I surrendered I could just observe
it, with some detachment but definitely not complete detachment.
In my regular life, when I’ve
been confronted with fear even marginally analogous to this, I have at times
chosen to abandon ship. Because I could. And because the fear triggered
reactive safety responses and I wasn’t willing to endure those particular
darknesses at the time. Sure, I could commence onto those foreign lands with all
the gusto and commitment in the world, but at the edge of the forest or just a
part of the way in my small self would take charge and choose the safety of the
shadows of my cave instead.
During this second of my
ayahuasca ceremonies, on the second (and last) night of drinking the tea I,
seemingly inevitably, had entered the darkness again and felt that intense fear
and apprehension building, the bewilderment and regret, the “What the fuck were
you thinking?!” … “Yep, you’ve done it this time!” effect. The dark entity was
back and tormenting me. I was trapped here. Experiencing DMT has been likened
to near death and actual dying experiences. I’ve never died before, well not
that I am aware of, but if it’s anything like this particular ceremony I do
hope it ends like this one ended. For, following my journey into my dark, the
plant took me through wave after wave of bliss and joyfulness. It was beyond
optical visions, for they had ceased, but were replaced with different kinds of
vision and healing. During one wave, it was the complete experience of euphoria
and love of all things and everyone and myself. The next wave was complete
unification with everyone and everything. For a time, everyone in the room was
unified and danced the choreographed dance and sang the same divine song of
life. It was perfect. Another wave came and it was the unadulterated experience
of my body, without any mind or thought at all, but only somatic and inner
sensory experience. It just was. My body danced, or the plant danced me. Everything
wondrous and beaurtiful. But not like other experiences I have had with drugs,
for this morphed into my post-ayahuasca reality. It became a knowing. A felt
sense. A known experience. It has become a part of me, embodied. And just when
I thought it was over, a new wave. And I was God or divine energy or creation
or creativity or whatever you want to call it, or a part of it anyhow. Of
course I was. Of course we all are. And I felt gratitude and understanding for
the plant taking me through my darkness. It was okay. And more than okay. The
plant was telling me that both are important, the darkness and the light.
This is life. An ever changing
and transforming dance between the polarity of things. A divine balancing. And
I am responsible for it...for shaping this balance, for dancing this dance, for
creating. There are many ways to embrace our dark and the light and this is but
one way. A way to break through. A forced dragging from the cave, perhaps. But
it is, I believe, a way that bypasses the shadows and shadow makers of my cave.
There are no doubt other ways too. And for those who do, no matter which medium
you choose, I am awed and inspired by you. You are the real heroes and leaders
of humanity.
Visiting my darkness when it
knocks on my door is important for me to live in the fullness of my light. To
consciously embrace it daily or regularly or even intermittently, I avoid
living in the halflight and the illusion of my cave. Whether it is meditation,
sitting still, being alone, walking in nature, not avoiding myself with regular
substance use or behaviours, writing, creating, working on relationships,
changing career, going into therapy, studying something new, not running when
that seems like the easier thing to do... We live in a relative universe and
can only know light because of the dark. My life can only be great because I’ve
experienced mediocrity. I know my truth because I have lived the lie.
By embracing my darkness, it
becomes just another state, a reference point. But by avoiding it, it grows and
festers within me. It becomes my monster, a monster fed and enlarged by my
avoidance of it. It sits in the deepest recesses of my (usually) unconscious
self, growing, stifling, occasionally bursting forth out into my world in less
than helpful ways. Leaving my cave every now and again may not always be
pleasant or what I consciously want, but has proven to always be a far greater
show than I’d ever known before.