“We often speak of the dark night of the soul as if it comes once, passes through us, and then gives way to light. But for those on the deeper path, it is not a singular event. It is a rhythm. A return. A sacred unraveling that comes in waves—each one more honest, more demanding, more luminous than the last.
In this reflection, I share what it feels like to stand in one of those deeper nights, where even the old sacreds—books, music, practices—no longer hold. It is not a place of failure, but of becoming. And in its silence, something vaster than belief begins to stir.”
I am in the cave. The light has gone out behind me, and the way ahead is veiled. I do not trust the voices outside. Even the kind ones feel far.
Even the sacred texts ring hollow here. I am alone with the echo of my own breath. And yet— even here, especially here, something in me refuses to die.
There is a flicker. Not enough to see by, but enough to keep breathing. I do not know where I am. But I know this is not the end. I know that Love has not left, even if it no longer wears a face I recognize.
I will not pretend. I will not dress this up in spiritual language. I will not claim to see when I do not. But I will stay. I will sit in this unknowing. I will feel the tremble, the grief. And I will not run.
Because somewhere beneath the pain, beneath the silence, beneath the ruin of what once held me—Love still is. And if Love still is, then I am becoming. Even in this. Especially in this.
So I offer no benediction. Only this breath. This tear. This sacred refusal to give up. Love is the only way.
And even here—
especially here—
I walk it.
Nigel Lott teaandzen.org
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