Darkness Falls

   It's commonly heard, "Time to come in; it's getting dark."  This was the opening theme in Barbara Brown Taylor's recent book, Learning to Walk in the Dark.  She comments at how much our culture and cultures around the world have come to fear what once was such an important part of our lives...the dark.  Now, even the usage of the word "dark" comes to imply negativity...that film was very dark, don't go to the dark side, the dark recesses of your mind, etc.

   Brown Taylor, formerly an ordained minister, begins to wonder where this fear began and where it is all heading, citing the works of Carmelite John of the Cross who was imprisioned in solitary and total darkness, yet went on to write The Dark Night of the Soul among others. She says that anyone thinking this is a story of how difficult it would be to cling to one's faith in such conditions will be sadly disappointed. "In the first place, John does not have much to say about religion. His language is passionate and speaks directly to the senses.  For him, the dark night is a love story, full of the painful joy of seeking the most elusive lover of all.  In John's native Spanish, his word for God is nada. God is no-thing."  Indeed, WW II bombers reported coming back disoriented from hours of staring at space, their eyes continually trying to focus in the dark, trying to see "something."  And perhaps, they only saw no-thing.

    Ages ago, our biggest religion was myth-ology.  Then we revered women (goddesses) and animals (snakes were not serpents but protectors, as symbolized on our medical staff-symbol today), all according to Joseph Campbell and his classic book, The Power of Myth.  Now, we have taken a large shift away from all of these...and also away from the dark.  Good/bad, yin/yang, darkness/light.

    Nighttime in our bed is a time of reflection, or a time of confrontation, or a time of fear.  We comfort ourselves with night lights, clock radios, recharging lights.  But once in total darkness, we surrender to our sleep and to our dreams.  This is the concept with a traveling exhibit called Dialogue in the Dark (150 cities, 30 countries) which forces one to confront darkness, one whose philosophy is, "The only way to learn is through encounter."   It is much the same with the Blindekuh restaurant concept where one eats in total darkness.  As Brown Taylor says of the overall ideas, "after dark, when my eyes have semiretired for the night, all these other senses wake up.  With the days barrage of sights and sounds toned down, it is possible to savor things that slip right past me in the light.  Food tastes better by candlelight.  Conversations last longer.  The smell of the vineyard is in the wine."

   Paul Bogard's recent book, The End of Night, shows humanity's valiant struggle to stop the darkness from falling.  The Luxor's beam is Las Vegas is equal to 40 BILLION candles of light.  The city of Paris spends 150,000 euro DAILY to preserve its City of Lights status.  All of this to drown out the dark.  As he mentions, Astronomer Tyler Nordgren said, "Four hundred years ago, everyone in Florence could see the stars, but only Galileo had a telescope. Now everyone has a telescope but no one can see the stars."

   Author Bogard wants to remind us of what we're missing, that indeed it might be time to let the meaning of darkness to "fall" and regain it's equal place with light.  We don't remember the second verse of Home on the Range, he says, so hear it again:  How often the night when the heavens are bright with the light from the glittering stars.  Have I stood there amazed and asked as I gazed if their glory exceeds that of ours.

   As Brown Taylor adds, wouldn't it be nice to hear your mother say, "It's time to come outside; it's getting dark."