Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Here's to the sun coming up...

Unexpected darkness has the ability to expose the light that has been there all along, but that doesn't make the dark any less frightening, challenging and lonely.   I have a friend who is supporting someone going through a terrible, unnexpected loss, and suddenly, this recount of a little run in the dark seemed meaningful to share.  

I went running early in the morning last week  - so early that it was dark.  When I walked outside with my running partner, we couldn't see.  The sky was black as night, with stars as bright as I've ever seen.  It was odd - it was morning, so we'd expect the rising sun, but instead, it was darkness.  The darkenss was a little scary.  I knew it was morning, and I knew I wasn't alone, but every step was filled with a little trepidation. 

It was helpful to have a running mate there to encourage me to go forward while my eyes adjusted.  I tried so hard to discern light, but it was difficult. I thought about how the stars are always here, and I expect to see them at night, when it's supposed to be dark, but when I see them in the morning, they seem surreal.  I have confidence in my ability to sense my environment, but despite the twinkling stars, every step brough a little fear of falling.  It was an interesting expeirence that day. It was so dark that after an initial walk, we took a brief pause to have coffee, talk, and wait out the last of the extreme darkness.  It was nice to have a partner there to wait out the darkest part of the morning. Eventually the sky brightened up, I could see just fine, and the run went on.  

A few days later, a friend that I love and respect shared that she was herself helping someone through a dark period.  She was helping a friend who had unexpectedly lost a husband. For whatever reason, I thought of this run and the fear that came with the unknown of the unexpected darkness.  I also thought of the confidence and support a friend can bring what times like these. Nothing can describe the loss, fear, and emotion this person must be going through. I hope that although she must feel frightened, bewildered and lost, that she feels the strenghth and partnership my friend is providing her. I hope she realizes she is not alone and that it's ok to pause to let the initial darkness pass... eventually, the sun will come up, and the stars will stay in her memory. 

...all my love to the family dealing with this loss, and my continued love and admiration to my friend, who is always looking to help others see the stars around them in anticipation of their rising sun...


  1. This brought tears to my eyes. And that rarely happens. Thank you Kat. Just thank you so much.

  2. You touch the very core of my being Kat! Thank You for sharing your gift!