Learning from Darkness

by Amber Goodloe, LPC

“I have learned things in the dark that I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life over and over again, so that there is really only one logical conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light.”
― Barbara Brown Taylor, Learning to Walk in the Dark

“even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.”

-Psalm 139:12

NEW YEAR, NEW YOU?

It is the beginning of 2026 and many of us are tempted (or at least told) to write New Year’s Resolutions – to find ways to improve our lives this year.  My email has been swamped with “take this class” or “try these recipes to detox” or “10 ways to be creative in 2026” and I’ll be honest – I do enjoy thinking through a new calendar year and praying through how God would have me invest my time and energy this year, and what He is calling me into. I don’t believe this is inherently bad. 

SEASONS OF DARKNESS

But something I’ve been reminded of lately is that in all of the places I have lived January is the dead of winter, and humans are the only living thing on earth trying to start new things during this season.  Plants and trees have gone dormant, bears are hibernating, and birds went south for vacation (haha).  Meanwhile here we are trying to change our lives because the calendar said it’s time to, without any thought to where we are in life and what is possible and healthy right now, in this season (both literally and metaphorically).  As I sit at my desk writing this it is 6pm but my brain could easily be convinced it’s well past midnight because it’s been dark for several hours already, yet here I am with lights on all around me continuing to be productive.  And while most of me is really thankful for (reliable) electricity that allows me to do this, I also long for natural cues to tell me it’s ok to rest.  Moving to Budapest last year was a shock to my system in many ways, but what stood out most to me was the darkness of winter.  I have never lived in a place with days this short and it threw me for a complete loop – at 3:30 the sun was going down and I was ready to stop working, make a cup of tea, and be done with the day – but I couldn’t, or felt really guilty when I did.  My brain screamed “but it’s only 3:30, the work day isn’t over yet, you haven’t accomplished enough yet.”  And so, I battled my body to keep working, turned on more lights to trick my brain into thinking the sun was still up, and didn’t rest until it was “time.” 

Now, I recognize that many of you reading this are not in a location with 4 distinct seasons, so it might not actually be cold and dark where you are, but just go with me.  So many of us have either been taught to live as if we’re superheroes who don’t need a break, or we seek out this life because it gives us validation and distraction.  Many of us don’t live lives that are impacted or influenced by nature: seasons, weather, daylight, etc.  I remember reading in Shauna Niequist’s book Present Over Perfect that she loved spending time at the lake because if a storm came in everyone was forced inside, as opposed to the city where “it would take a true natural disaster to disrupt our well-trod routines and rhythms.”  

SOLAR SPIRITUALITY

Fast forward to a few years ago when I was getting married and my husband, who grew up in a major city, came to my dad’s cattle ranch in the literal middle of nowhere for the first time and we couldn’t leave the ranch for days on end because it rained, or it snowed, or it might rain or snow and you had to plan ahead.  This was a foreign concept to him that the weather literally controlled our life in many ways.  We also spent hours staring at the sky because when you’re in the middle of nowhere, far away from any lights, the stars are amazing.  But also – wow is it dark!  As I have pondered these topics I found Barbara Brown Taylor’s book Learning to Walk in the Dark. She talks about how our modern society has done everything we can to control the dark, the weather, the seasons so that we aren’t impacted by them and just keep living our lives at breakneck speed. We are taught that the goal in life is to work harder, shine brighter, and outrun the shadows. We subscribe to what Barbara Brown Taylor calls “solar spirituality”—a relentless insistence that we must always be in the light, productive and unblinking. But this summer, when I found Taylor’s book, it challenged so many of these notions and reminded me of our need as humans for rhythms and natural order in our lives. Taylor talks about how much our bodies literally need darkness to thrive – how artificial light disrupts our circadian rhythm which affects our minds, bodies, and emotions in ways we don’t even realize. 

I know some of you reading this live in remote locations with very few “modern conveniences,” and therefore the idea of being impacted by weather and darkness is second nature to you, but how does that apply internally?  For all of us, what are our associations with darkness and winter? I’m guessing a lot of them are primarily negative – sin, sadness, loneliness, fear, danger, cold, etc.  All things we actively seek to avoid.  

COULD WE SHIFT OUR PERSPECTIVE?

But what would it look like to shift our perspective to see that there is goodness that can only be found in the dark, and to see our need for seasons of winter to allow us to rest and recover in order to enhance our fruitfulness in other seasons? Katherine May wrote a book on “Wintering” and talks about our need to allow for and embrace winter seasons (times of dormancy, rest, survival) in our lives, and look at how to engage with them differently than we do summer seasons (times of high energy and capacity).  “Winter” can come through a season of grief, illness, burnout, trauma, transition, or a host of other experiences, and these often come with “dark” emotions and thoughts.  May says, “We must learn to invite the winter in. We may never choose to winter, but we can choose how.” She goes on to say, “Plants and animals don’t fight the winter; they don’t pretend it’s not happening and attempt to carry on living the same lives that they lived in the summer. They prepare. They adapt.”  I remember someone talking about the analogy of a tree that refuses to let go of its leaves in the fall before the snows come, and then all the branches breaking under the weight of the snow because they weren’t prepared to withstand it.  I was challenged to consider how this applies to me – what things might I need to let go of in order to survive certain seasons of life, knowing that my “leaves” will return in time.  

“Winter” can also be a spiritual season where God feels distant or quiet and we feel abandoned or forgotten.  In her book, Taylor talks about “solar spirituality” which she refers to as seeking to only see and experience the sunny side of faith, to trust in God’s goodness always, and to maintain a positive attitude.  This type of faith doesn’t know how to respond to doubt, grief, or seasons of “darkness.”  However, she describes her own faith as more of a “lunar spirituality in which the divine light available to me waxes and wanes with the season.” She talks about how the moon changes shape constantly and, as such, “the moon is a truer mirror for my soul than the sun that looks the same way every day.” Personally, I think this is a better picture of life as Christians than sunny “solar spirituality.”  

So what does this look like for us? How can we learn to “let winter in” and “learn to walk in the dark?”  Here are some of my thoughts:

• Let go of our need to be constantly productive and growing and create space in our lives for rest and recovery
• Consider which months / seasons you are most energized in and begin new habits and goals during those times
• Recognize signs our bodies give us that they’re tired and need a break: disrupted sleep, headaches, weight changes, irritability, and others
• Change the labels in our minds that we give to “negative” emotions and make it a goal to allow ourselves to name and feel whatever comes up rather than repress and ignore 
• Write a list of things we have learned or grown in through darkness and the winters of our lives
• Do a “tech detox” to allow for quiet in your mind – to cut down on constant stimulation and input and allow your brain to breathe and notice what’s present
• Try “The Flashlight Fast:” spend ten minutes in a completely dark room without your phone or a light. Notice how your body reacts. Do you feel the urge to ‘do’ something? To ‘fix’ the dark? Just breathe and wait for your eyes to adjust. This is a physical practice to help learn that the dark is not your enemy, but a place where you can finally rest.

May this January be a time where you can notice what season you’re in and live accordingly.  Maybe you’re in a summer season and you really are in the best place to make goals and move forward – go for it!  Just save this for later when winter comes.  Or maybe you really do need to give yourself grace to rest and be dormant until “spring.”  Or maybe you’re stuck in an “eternal winter” you don’t know how to get out of, or you have no clue how to let go of summer and make space for rest and need some guidance. Reach out to a friend for support, or if it feels bigger than that we at Olive Tree would love to help you walk this road.  

REFERENCES & RECOMMENDATIONS

Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor

Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May

Present Over Perfect by Shauna Niequist

Try Softer by Aundi Kolber

Rhythms of Renewal by Rebekah Lyons

When Strivings Cease by Ruth Chou Simons