Much like the moon, I have seasons of coming and going, waxing and waning. Of being bright and radiant, and then going completely and utterly dark.
Sometimes it’s necessary — this surrendering into your own depths. It’s necessary to let go of control and let yourself sink as deep as you can, so that you can at least gather your strength enough to continue fighting to swim back to the top.
Because you can’t keep up that control forever. You can’t control the waves any more than you can control your own destiny. You can choose your direction, certainly. But your destiny is the magical crossroad between the gravity of your desires, and the gravity of the sky and the ocean and all its beautiful, brilliant little microcosmoses.
When I go dark, I don’t apologize anymore. I used to, but I’ve since learned no grace comes from a tree shaming its own leaves for wilting when its time has passed. No grace comes from a flower shaming its petals for falling when the sun casts a shadow on them. Grace comes from accepting that there’s a season for everything, and you cannot grow into your next season until you accept that the previous one has passed.
There is an art to letting go, in this dark phase of the moon. This new moon.
There is a release. A certain peace and stillness. Because yes, while you’re fighting to swim back to the surface, the violent adrenaline of hope still drives you forward, but plummets you equally fast when you realize the surface is so, so far out of reach . . .
That constant struggle drains your soul. Drains you entirely, really.
That’s why, sometimes you just want to lie still. Lie so very still, and let yourself float. In this dark, quiet stillness, this great, scary unknown of your life, of being in between seasons, in between phases, in between beginnings and ends, somehow, and yet nowhere at the same time.
You feel lost and found at the same time. You feel everything and nothing. In this quiet, the deepest truths come to the surface —
What is it that you want?
And why is it that, before you even fully voice that desire, you have already silenced it inside yourself as being out of reach? As being too much, not enough, unattainable?
Why have you denied yourself your greatest dream before even granting yourself the grace of believing? Hoping is just half the fight. You have to believe you deserve it, too.
No wonder you keep sinking no matter how hard you fight, love. It’s the weight of your own doubts and limited beliefs anchoring you . . .
To rock bottom.
(A/N: “Lumen’s Diary” is a relatively new column I started, which acts as an online diary that combines random thoughts, artistic photography, poetry, stream-of-consciousness style prose, and anything else I feel like. In today’s era of 10-second insta-reels, it might be unconvential. But my purpose isn’t to follow trends, this diary is a way to express my soul, and hopefully it might resonate with others and remind them they’re not alone. <3 )