I Walk Into Darkness
Choose a morning this week when you will wake 2 hours before the sunrise. When it's still black. When the stars have shifted completely around Polaris from where you left them when you went to bed.
Choose the morning.
Next, choose the land on which you will take yourself out for a walk. Somewhere big enough and wild enough to hold you. And somewhere where you won’t get lost. Make sure there is a trail to follow, a treeline to hug, a shoreline to reference. Do not put yourself at risk of getting lost. Put yourself in a wild landscape, that you’ll be able to navigate.
And. With headlamp off. Flashlight doused. Candle blown.
Walk into the darkness.
Walk into the darkness.
Walk into the darkness.
And remind yourself of what you are doing:
“I walk into darkness.”
“I walk into darkness.”
“I walk into darkness.”
Feel all the accompanying feelings as you do so.
And let the forest, or lakeshore, or wetland, or meadow, or beach, or mountain, or desert, or riverbed, or salt flat, or wherever you’ve chosen (and has chosen you), reveal to you its wisdom and knowledge about you and walking into darkness.
It’s simple.
Pick a morning to wake 2 hours before the sunrise
Pick a place in wild nature to take yourself one early morning.
Walk. Without aid of lamp or light.
Remind yourself of what you do:
“I walk into darkness.”
And experience what is revealed to you.
At home, or at the end of your walk, write for 15 minutes. Freely. Just keep the pen moving. Let your thoughts find a good home in your journal.