Out of the Darkness - Part Two


The following is the second part of my six-day posting from the epilogue to my manuscript, Out of the Darkness.  The writing of these words revolved around the spiritual crisis that followed the death of my daughter nine years ago. This events that birthed the more than anything else, gave me strength to continue on this journey we call life.  You can find Part One HERE.


Sometimes her thoughts seemed far too large for her:  Too big to comprehend. Yet she found herself pondering and wondering and thinking deep thoughts, wishing someone, somewhere could share them with her.  She had no awareness that others might call her a seeker – though deep in her soul she knew she was seeking something.  It did not dawn on her that perhaps something was seeking her, calling her by name, saying …”Come unto me.”

            As she grew older, the feelings from childhood began to fade. She felt restless and less content.  It was as if she wanted the answers to some unformed question. She never outgrew her love of nighttime, or of darkness.  She found it quite challenging to understand others’ talk of having difficulty being alone. Alone was a time of solace and solitude.  She would think back to those childhood years and feel comforted.  As time went by, she became aware that something was tugging at her heart, as if pointing in a direction she could not see.  She had moments, glimmers of insight when she thought she felt someone else was on the same journey as she – yet only to be disappointed when their paths diverged. She found, sadly, that she kept no friends for long. As she opened up to share her inner depths, she was met with curious glances or uncomfortable silences. She felt misunderstood.

For the first time she became truly aware that she walked a different path than most. So many people seemed to live on the surface. In the depths of her soul, she seemed destined for a solitary existence. Most of the time she was satisfied in her solitude yet she longed terribly to connect with others in her world.

Having learned she could never adequately communicate her seeking, she tried other avenues.  She found she could be funny – and entertaining.  Her innate love of words and quick wit allowed her the ability to make others laugh.

This amused her for a while, but her desire to connect was never quenched.  She was saddened that the humor was all that others saw, all they sought out.  No one seemed to truly want to know her deeper self.

When she would once again broach the feelings of wonderment – the asking “why” – the looking for meaning – the belief that she was born to dance among the stars – she found herself, again, on the outside looking in. She knew she viewed things differently yet it still bothered her a little.  Sometimes, she wished for someone who would understand. For someone who also wanted to dance among the stars. 

At first, she thought that was what love was. When she fell in love, she thought, that would mean the other person would understand. But sadly, as time went on she found that not to be true.            

As much as she saw the wonderment in life, she also saw the puzzlement of it.   Where sometimes, she felt so full of meaning, at other times she felt completely bereft of any meaning at all.  Yet still, she remembered the feeling of sitting on that hill, in the darkness, and knowing.  She would be hard pressed to explain what it was she knew so vividly back then.  At least, hard pressed for words.  But her soul knew.  And in that, she sought – and found – comfort. She would look up at the night sky and whisper “One day I WILL dance among the stars. I WILL.”

To be continued 

 © deni weber 2010-2015