Sit in the fire and weep until your gut aches, until your sides burn, until your face swells. Feel through every single drop of it. Sit in the blackness until your eyes adjust, until the stakes are so high that they’re low, and you know there’s nothing left to lose. Be with the black until it feels strangely more peaceful than menacing, until you know this is the pain of 10,00 generation coming up to be healed and that it’s not all for nothing. Wail from the center of that ache, from your center, until you find your true voice and hear it echo back the clarity you seek. (This could take moments or it could take weeks.)
Feel through until you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that grace resides in you, as you. That surrender is the deepest healing, and handing this over to spirit may be the only real option. That even in the blackest of nights your precious heart holds enough light to nourish millions. Sit in the dark until you stop the fight, until you deepen your breath, until you befriend yourself and remember who you are. Let it swallow you whole, give yourself over completely, for when you do, you summon the dawn. (And you’ll almost always be more beautiful on the other side.)
"...But when I lean over the chasm of myself--
my God is dark
and like a web: a hundred roots
This is the ferment I grow out of..."