Elegance in darkness? They would call me silly to admire the darkness in life…
Whenever you think of the word dark, what’s the first emotion that comes to your mind? Hopelessness? Fear? Uncertainty? Or if you’re going through a rough, bumpy road, you might also relate it to pain. That’s what I exactly thought as I stepped into the elevator on my way to work this morning. The elevator was dark, but its edges glowed with soft, beaming lights — just like my thoughts, flickering between shadow and clarity.
My mind was clouded with thoughts, swirling with affirmations to forgive myself and others as I move on to this new chapter in life. A chapter I want to be beautiful. A chapter I will make beautiful.
Since I came in a little early, I wanted to spend this time reading something good — or at least that’s what the app on my phone reminded me to do. And what are the odds that the book I opened was In Praise of Shadows by Jun’ichirō Tanizaki?
A book that speaks volumes about the shadows and darkness.
And the best thing I read in it was — elegance in darkness — and it just stuck with me.
Like how important it is to be in the dark, where no one can find you. Or even try to find you if they wanted to.
Of course, it’s painful. It’s full of uncertainty. The weight of it sits heavy on your chest, thick with the clouds of anxiety and questions no one seems to have answers for. But nobody talks about how important it is to experience this pain.
You won’t know the light unless you have passed through the darkest tunnel.
You won’t look within unless the world has shut all its doors in your face.
You won’t find the resilience within you unless you’ve battled the kind of emotions that pull you down like a sinking stone, dragging you to the bed of the ocean, deeper than you ever thought you could go.
You won’t discover your own strength unless you’ve had to hold yourself up when there was nothing left to lean on.
You won’t see the rainbows unless you’ve stood through the storm.
Why does no one talk about the elegance of darkness?
And the person you become after you pass through the darkest storms?
Maybe because it’s not seen. It’s felt. And if you’re in the tunnel right now, don’t rush through it. There’s elegance in the darkness too. The kind of elegance you’ll see only when you reach the end of this tunnel!
So hang in there, a little more. I promise it’s beautiful out here!