“We are the light we must resist darkness” was written on a sign in a metaphysical shop I visited on my friend's birthday three years ago. We were combing through art prints nestled amongst taxidermied animals and crystal pendulums when we saw the words. I insisted on taking a picture of her holding the sign.
In the photo, she’s wearing a KN95 mask, and her cheeks are pink from the cold. We had just come from an outdoor dinner spent huddled under heat lamps as we refused to choose between staying safe from the virus and celebrating being alive. It was October 2020, nine months after the start of the pandemic. We’d both recently lost friends, I was getting divorced and had just secured a lease, ready to move out of the home I’d lived in for 17 years.
This was the year I became a devout plant owner, inspired by spending more time indoors and feeling alone. If you want to change the feel of a room, put a plant in it. They give off oxygen to improve air quality and emit a calming vibration. Studies show they even reduce stress by suppressing autonomic nervous system activity. I love my plants, and caring for them has made me a better person.
What I marvel at most is the way plants move. They reach, stretch, and lean towards the light at all costs. Heart leaf pothos vines creep across my kitchen, pulling their clips from the walls in order to move closer to the rays of sunlight. My fiddle leaf fig tree must be turned every few months to avoid being misshapen. Monstera leaves wave at the sun as their roots climb across hardwood, longing to soak up the rainfall of a forest floor. They inspire me, especially on dark winter mornings, to lean towards what’s life-giving.
The idea of seeking light could be misinterpreted. Taken for, “I’m going to ignore all of the darkness in the world, go meditate, and focus solely on my own happiness.” But that’s not how I mean it.
We have a choice to make, thousands of choices every day, actually. To look at and connect to the light within us. We have a power, a love within that connects us all. At our core, we are love, a collective consciousness, and we know it.
We remember that we all come from spirit and will return there to review what we’ve done with our time in this life.
What does resisting darkness mean? If turning toward the light is turning toward love, then resisting darkness means turning away from fear. And I think it means more than that. I think it means moving past fears, moving through them, to act from a place of love. Not letting fear control our actions and grip our lives.
How much more loving could we be without letting our fears consume us?
Fear can motivate us to operate in large and small ways. Some days, I feel afraid of how fast my kids are growing up. That they are driving, working, and going away to school. My instinct is to close my arms around them, tell them what to do to be safe, and make sure they don’t get hurt. I have to resist interfering in their lives. I remember that it’s a journey I have the privilege of watching from a front-row seat.
This morning, I read a NYT article about how the next Trump presidency would be more radical than his first. I click across the news, feeling my chest constrict, reading headlines about what is happening to families in Gaza. I continue to follow what is happening in Iran. I feel afraid of fascist leaders. I fear my rights being stripped away, I fear living in an even more violent society with the darkness of humanity uncorked.
My thoughts make me want to shut out everyone in my life who doesn’t agree with me. To move abroad, to keep myself safe. Ten minutes into reading the news, I am far from a clear channel to the Spirit World. I need to bring myself back, I need to want to come back to myself.
Fear looms throughout our lives, real and imagined, and we will never be completely free of it.
I must choose to turn towards my inner light and be guided by love. I can very much imagine a world with a second Trump presidency, and I’m having difficulty discerning my premonitions from my imagination. Sometimes, for me, there is no difference.
Perhaps it’s still undecided, suspended in time and space, waiting for us all to choose. To reach out to people we love rather than retreat to the safety of our bubble. To share ourselves with the world.
I already know what I will choose. I have already seen the spirit world, and I am not afraid of dying. I will choose love every time. In response to my fear, I will find a way to breathe and pour my light into the world. I am inspired by nature, by you all, and by spirit that leads me toward what I must know and do.
We are all counting on each other to do the same. It’s the collective healing that we need. To resist darkness is to say no to fear dictating our actions or inactions.
You can do this today by reaching toward the edge of your comfort zone in the way that you show up for love. Be an example of kindness. Tell people how you feel about them. Forgive as much as love allows. Stand up for what you believe in. Stretch towards what is life-affirming. Reach toward the light.
Sending you love,
Sheryl
P.S. Tickets are on sale for this special holiday event, and I’d love for you to join if you feel called to.
P.P.S. I’m excited to share with you a new feature of this newsletter. I’m adding an advice column to The Electric Curtain called A Peek Behind the Veil, where you can submit anonymous questions to be answered in the newsletter.
You can submit your question anonymously here.
If you’re looking for more ways to connect…
Uncovering Intuition: The Course helps you learn to trust yourself.
Here are more ways to work with me
Right now, this newsletter is a labor of love. If you enjoy my writing and find value here, please consider becoming a paid subscriber to support my work. As I approach nine months of writing The Electric Curtain, I’ll be experimenting with adding more benefits for paid subscribers. If you’re not ready to be a paid subscriber, your presence here is still extremely valuable to me. I love being able to share my ideas and revelations with you.
Absolutely gorgeous 🌿🥹✨