Seeds and Darkness

There are lessons only darkness can teach. Just as photos develop in a dark room, the things buried inside us often can only rise to the surface when we’re forced to face them in the dark. Like seeds planted deep in the soil, our souls often wait there for the nurturing they need to grow up and out into the visible world. And like plants, too much sunlight can scorch us; our souls need time in the shadows to shape us and open our eyes.

We all want a break from being surrounded by “too much.” Too much of anything and everything. Too much news. Too much work. Too much caring for others and ourselves. Too many chores. Too many demands. Too many thoughts.

We want things to stop. Just for a minute. We want a chance to catch our breath, shift ourselves into a better position, so we can then start again.

But what will we choose to help us be better when we start again? What will we fill ourselves with? What will we remove? How much truth will we allow ourselves to see so we know what we must do? How much can we do on our own? What do we need help with?

Big questions. Pivotal places. Monumental movement.

But the direction you head in is up to you.

Did you know that in nature, there is an instinctive draw for common rhythm?

The science world calls it synchronization.

When independent systems interact, they often “lock in” to a common rhythm. Each system adjusts slightly in response to the others until they reach a stable, shared timing. Fireflies match their flashes, pendulum clocks on the same beam fall into sync, and even heart cells begin beating together when placed nearby. Crickets align their chirps, and waves organize into repeating forms. Wherever individual parts influence one another, rhythm becomes the path of least resistance. Almost like it was planned that way.

Our “man-made world” has dwarfed and deafened our ability to connect the way we are meant to. A non-stop assault on our senses has rewired our natural ability to assess, adjust, and assimilate. From screens flashing troublesome news and opposing certainties, to the sounds of traffic and machines drowning out our natural world, it’s no wonder so many

people are struggling.

Nature functions by leaning into rhythm, and so can we.

We are not powerless here. We have power in our choices. Our real strength shows up when we’re honest about who we are. We get to choose what we align with. We get to decide which influences we respond to, which voices we echo, and which patterns we refuse. We can keep ourselves from being pulled into rhythms that harm us and those around us. But it starts with us — with looking at ourselves, acknowledging where our power lies, and admitting where we need help if help is what we need. Everyone draws strength from somewhere, and choosing where we draw from is pivotal.

I am thankful that I was found and that my own rhythm was restored. But I have to work daily at keeping the connection. It is work to stay connected to what, and Who There are lessons only darkness can teach. Just as photos develop in a dark room, the things buried inside us often can only rise to the surface when we’re forced to face them in the dark. Like seeds planted deep in the soil, our souls often wait there for the nurturing they need to grow up and out into the visible world. And like plants, too much sunlight can scorch us; our souls need time in the shadows to shape us and open our eyes.

We all want a break from being surrounded by “too much.” Too much of anything and everything. Too much news. Too much work. Too much caring for others and ourselves. Too many chores. Too many demands. Too many thoughts.

We want things to stop. Just for a minute. We want a chance to catch our breath, shift ourselves into a better position, so we can then start again.

But what will we choose to help us be better when we start again? What will we fill ourselves with? What will we remove? How much truth will we allow ourselves to see so we know what we must do? How much can we do on our own? What do we need help with?

Big questions. Pivotal places. Monumental movement.

But the direction you head in is up to you.

Did you know that in nature, there is an instinctive draw for common rhythm?

The science world calls it synchronization.

When independent systems interact, they often “lock in” to a common rhythm. Each system adjusts slightly in response to the others until they reach a stable, shared timing. Fireflies match their flashes, pendulum clocks on the same beam fall into sync, and even heart cells begin beating together when placed nearby. Crickets align their chirps, and waves organize into repeating forms. Wherever individual parts influence one another, rhythm becomes the path of least resistance. Almost like it was planned that way.

Our “man-made world” has dwarfed and deafened our ability to connect the way we are meant to. A non-stop assault on our senses has rewired our natural ability to assess, adjust, and assimilate. From screens flashing troublesome news and opposing certainties, to the sounds of traffic and machines drowning out our natural world, it’s no wonder so many

people are struggling.

Nature functions by leaning into rhythm, and so can we.

We are not powerless here. We have power in our choices. Our real strength shows up when we’re honest about who we are. We get to choose what we align with. We get to decide which influences we respond to, which voices we echo, and which patterns we refuse. We can keep ourselves from being pulled into rhythms that harm us and those around us. But it starts with us — with looking at ourselves, acknowledging where our power lies, and admitting where we need help if help is what we need. Everyone draws strength from somewhere, and choosing where we draw from is pivotal.

I am thankful that I was found and that my own rhythm was restored. But I have to work daily at keeping the connection. It is work to stay connected to what, and Who sustains me.

In a world growing in directions that are threatening to undo so many, we are not powerless. Finding rhythm that sustains us in our lives with dignity, for ourselves and each other, takes hard work and intention. We can choose to turn toward what restores rather than what destroys. We can choose what we let guide us to a better way.

But we won’t find it on a screen. We won’t find it in rooms filled with anger, lies, or deceit. We need to slow things down, step back from the chaos, and open ourselves to calm and quiet. We need to plug into the right source. This is how we let the sounds of the natural world speak to our souls. We need to drown out the noisiness in today’s world.

It’s never too late. We can all find our own rhythm again. We can synchronize in a way that carries us forward with intention, clarity, and strength. What’s in us — like seeds in the dark — is waiting to be nurtured so it can rise into the light. In a world that is losing its way, collectively, we can restore the natural rhythm we were meant to walk in.sustains me.

In a world growing in directions that are threatening to undo so many, we are not powerless. Finding rhythm that sustains us in our lives with dignity, for ourselves and each other, takes hard work and intention. We can choose to turn toward what restores rather than what destroys. We can choose what we let guide us to a better way.

But we won’t find it on a screen. We won’t find it in rooms filled with anger, lies, or deceit. We need to slow things down, step back from the chaos, and open ourselves to calm and quiet. We need to plug into the right source. This is how we let the sounds of the natural world speak to our souls. We need to drown out the noisiness in today’s world.

It’s never too late. We can all find our own rhythm again. We can synchronize in a way that carries us forward with intention, clarity, and strength. What’s in us — like seeds in the dark — is waiting to be nurtured so it can rise into the light. In a world that is losing its way, collectively, we can restore the natural rhythm we were meant to walk in.