I know there is a light at the end of tunnels in life. Even if the tunnel seems like a dungeon, a sewer, or a pit. The light can be figuratively without and spiritually within. I had been instructed to not look at the deconstruction, the demolition of my life. All you’ll see is dust and debris flying everywhere. Rise above it and close your eyes. It’s noisy. Life being demolished and deconstructed is loud. Noisy. Confusing. Sad. Scary. It looks like a mess. It looks things are breaking apart and they are. So, close your eyes and hold on. And keep going, resting, breathing, trying, crying, toiling.

And every now and then there is a flicker of light, of hope. But one doesn’t get there hopes up too high. Disappointment has been a guest that shows up at the wrong times this year catching me completely off guard.

But this time the light at the end of the tunnel is apparent. It’s there. It’s steady. Yet, I don’t know how close or how far I am from it. So, I’ll simply take delight, draw strength from the fact that the light isn’t flickering. It isn’t on and off. It’s soft and it’s there.

They tell me life has rhythms. I’ve never heard this one before. It has cycles. This one hasn’t identified itself. It’s too much to think about. Too much to comprehend. But I’m sure in retrospect someday I’ll understand. Right now, I’ll just continue forward moving to towards the light and soon I’ll reach a point where I can see my hands in front of my face and the path ahead. Maybe I’ll be able to see what was torn down and what foundation has been laid for this introduction to my new book of life at this age, at this time, in this world.

Have you ever been in an unfamiliar dark place?

~Nikki